School for the Slow Learners
Neil Gaiman once said: - I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing.
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
The evening was spent clearing up some of the mess Floyd had made. Reid was upset with what he had done to his books. In the past Floyd had never harmed his books. He knew what they meant to him and left them alone. He must have been riled to have done this. He wanted to sit down and talk to Floyd about where he had been and what had been going on, but he also wanted to keep it from him. To have it as his and Aaron's. A couple of the books bindings had been damaged. Reid felt like crying. Ancient books destroyed because of one mans inability to understand that he was a person and not a possession.
As he stood with the old volume in his hand a hand touched him on the shoulder. He turned to look at who he knew it would be.
"I will fix that for you." Floyd went to take the book from Reid's hand.
"No – no you won't." He moved away and placed the book on a shelf.
"Come on babes. Let me fix it." He was there breathing down the back of Spencer's neck again.
Spencer turned to face him. He looked pale and ill. His face was covered in small and large bruises. He still had a scab on his mouth from where his lip had been split. "You can't fix this Floyd. This is a long way past fixing."
"Let me try." Floyd's hand was resting gently on the side of Spencer's face which in turn pushed and moved against it.
"You can't fix it." He put a hand up to Floyd's face. "What's going on?"
Floyd's fingers slid behind Reid's neck. "What do you mean?"
"With you – Something is wrong. You might have forgotten but you know the old profiler brain sometimes just doesn't let go. What's going on? You are smoking less. I haven't seen you snort for a long time and your nose bleeds are horrendous. So something is wrong."
"I will be fine Spence."
Reid gave a small nod and touched Floyd's lip gently with his own. He pulled away and smiled. "You will be fine?" This time Spencer ran his tongue over Floyd's lips. "Let me help you." His hand was on the back of Floyd's head now and pulled him in for a deep lip crushing kiss. One hand on the back of Floyd's head and the other holding onto the back of Floyd's waistband. The action was mirrored by Floyd. He pushed Reid back against the bookshelves where they rattled and the books slid over onto their sides and any doubt Reid might have been having when he saw what Floyd had done was sucked from his body.
Hotch had gone to his room after dinner and was laying on his bed in his pyjama bottoms. His head was swimming with confusion and he really thought that the sandwich had been off. Maybe he would have been better off eating what Floyd had prepared. By the sounds of it, it had revitalised Reid some what. He sort of wanted to get up and join in the fun but too much movement made his head spin so he lay in this increasing fog and listened the crashing and banging and moans and cries of pleasure. Again Hotch pulled the pillow over his head. Only this time he lay there wondering how – after what they had been through today – Reid was able to do that.
Floyd and Spencer lay on the floor amongst the trashed belongings and smiled at each other. Reid sat astride Floyd and ran his long fingers over the pale flesh on Floyd's chest.
"You really don't look well." Drawing circles with his fingers around his navel.
"Uh hu. I will be OK.
"Will you tell me what's wrong?" Fingers walking up ribs.
"I'm just a bit run down. I really need to sort out something to snort. I will feel better then." He pulled his knees up and rolled over forcing Spencer off him.
Spencer knelt next to him and looked at the white scared skin of Floyd's back and way his hip bones stuck out. Spencer put a hand on the warm skin. "You have lost weight too. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Floyd rolled over again so he was facing Reid. "You want to help me?"
"Yes –I want to help you."
"Go to bed Spencer. There is nothing you can do that you haven't already and that is meant to be a compliment." He smiled and ran a finger down Spencer's scar. "I don't know what I would do without you but I need you to go to bed."
It wasn't worth arguing about. Spencer stood up and picked up the clothes scattered around the room. He picked up Floyd's too but handed them to him. The jeans were getting a bit stiff with the filth they were covered in. "Floyd – I think a change of clothing might be a good idea. Tomorrow."
A nod. "Pick me out something nice will you?"
Reid walked to the bed room and bunged his clothes in the dirty clothes hamper on the way through. He took a fresh pair of dark blue boxers out of his top drawer and slipped them on.
He lay down on the edge of the bed. It was a small problem, but one he had to work out what to do. Floyd had bled all over the sheets. They were still there crusted and soaked and Spencer had no intention of removing them and annoying Floyd by doing it. So he slept on the edge of the massive four poster bed.
-o-o-o-
Aaron lay with his eyes closed and the pillow over his head on his front. He wanted – needed to get up and lock the door but he was unable to move. He could move but every slight movement sent his head in such a spin that he just had to close his eyes again and lay down quickly. There was a nasty rushing sound in his ears and he could hear his heart thumping.
The sudden movement on the bed made him jump and in turn made his head spin even more. He guessed who it was. The man had just spent all that time with Spencer and now wanted more? There was something seriously wrong with this man. He felt a rough hand move over his brow and then a low almost whispered voice.
"How are you feeling? You don't look too good."
"You drugged me."
"No – well maybe a tiny bit. It won't hurt you." Floyd was leaning close and talking directly into Aaron's ear. "I just needed you to keep the door unlocked."
His lips were touching Hotch's ear.
"You could have asked. Actually you could have just unlocked it." He let out a small sigh.
"You would have refused my request and I can't unlock a door if I am meant to be following your rules of engagement."
"It has never stopped you before. Not with Reid." Aaron moved a hand up and placed it on Floyd's chest, pushing him away slightly. "What do you want? You didn't come on here just to see if poisoning my dinner worked so what is the point of this visit Floyd? I am tired – I am stressed and after today I am grieving. I don't have time to unwind your words and try to make sense of them. So just say what it is you want then go."
A big sigh. "I will leave then. Just don't lock your door on me Aaron. Spence never does and I don't expect you to either."
"You went to all the trouble of drugging me just to make a point about locking my door?"
"No." Floyd got up from the edge of the bed and ran a finger over Aaron's hand.
"Then what? Why are you here and not playing with Spencer?"
"'Tis complicated Aaron. You wouldn't understand. I have lost someone too you know. I too am grieving – but not a word for me. No one to say they are feeling the pain I feel. Nothing – just a void – or screwing. Sometimes something else is required to sooth the pains. I think you know what I mean. You too have lost a child to someone else. When did you last see Jack? My Rosa is gone again and no one has bothered to ask how I feel about it."
Aaron tried to sit up but the room was still spinning. "That might be because what happened to your daughter became over shadowed by you torturing Spencer. I am sorry your daughter is missing. I am sorry she is not here. She seemed to make you happy – but Floyd if you need comforting for your pains you are not going the right way about it. Sex is not comfort, friends are and you are not making any here. Why would we care about you or if you hurt – you don't care about us."
"I would have thought a great profiler like your self would be able to read me better than that." Floyd walked over to the window and looked out across the back garden through the crack in the curtain.
"You Floyd are virtually unreadable. You lie so much that it doesn't even show when you flip from one to the next. You are unpredictable and your mood swings are violent. I would put you down as Gideon once did – as a sociopath – but that was wrong, you're not. I don't know what you are Floyd but you are an original whatever it is. Psychopath – definitely – but it is that little extra twist you have that I cannot understand and it is that thing which intrigues me."
"My little twist. I like that." Floyd walked towards the door. "Sleep well Aaron." He left and closed the door quietly behind him.
Aaron lay for a while wondering what the hell that was all about. Floyd needing comforting? He didn't think he would be able to sleep. The horror of what had happened that day he thought would prevent it, but the drugs forced his eyes closed and let sleep come. A deep dreamless sleep.
-o-o-o-
Floyd went to the lounge and looked around at the mess. They had picked some of it up but it seemed he and Spencer had made it look like a tornado had hit it again. He pulled a small twist of cellophane out of his pocket. There was a grey powder held inside. Carefully made and measured. He walked to the bedroom and looked at Reid laying half on the bed with his arms and legs dangling over the side. He smiled at him and sat on the other side of the bed and then lay back – still holding his precious drug in his hand.
Laying back partly on the mess he had left the night before he rested his head on a pillow and stared up at the canopy. He had bought this bed with so many dreams and thoughts in his head and all had led to nothing. He looked over at Spencer again and sighed. The grey powder rested comfortably on the back of his thumb nail. He raised it to his face and breathed in the life saving powder.
He sung softly to himself for a short while. He watched the patterns on the canopy dance and smile down at him. He would have liked to have got up right then and swum with them in the rainbows, but he was welded to the bed. Something holding him in place. Something warm.
And so he let his mind float along without his body and he watched from where he lay on the blood drenched bed.
-o-o-o-
Spencer knew Floyd had entered the room. He lay very still. It was uncomfortable. Somehow more than half of him seemed to be hanging over the side of the bed. He felt him lay down on the bed and was expecting to be either pulled back onto the bed or to be pushed onto the floor, but Floyd didn't touch him. He heard a sound very familiar to him and turned slowly to look at Floyd. He was a million miles away somewhere inside his head. Spencer watched him snort his concoction up his nose and watched his eyes roll back into this head.
The strange whispered noise which came from Floyd's lips was in a peculiar alien sounding language yet it was melodic. He watched now was Floyd's eyes seemed to focus on things on the canopy bed. He moved closer and touched him carefully. There was no response and so he crawled closer forgetting the blood on the bed. He slid an arm under Floyd's back and another one over his chest. He rested his head on Floyd's shoulder and held him tightly.
Spencer wished Floyd could tell him what was going on. It was partly Rosa he knew that, but there was more than that. He just seemed so angry with everything. Yes he had always had this temper problem but now Spencer knew that soon this man he loved so much was going to kill him. He just hoped it would heal whatever wound Floyd had. He breathed in the special smell and held on tightly listening to the strange song.
-o-o-o-
Floyd was still laying drooling and muttering to himself when Reid awoke in the morning to the smell of coffee. He untangled himself from Floyd and went to track down the divine smell. He pulled open a draw to find something to wear and found a pair of dark brown jeans, a long sleeved checked shirt and a brown sweater vest. He then walked to where Floyd kept his things. A huge old wardrobe. From there he picked out a pair of weird black trousers with a button fly, a white shirt with deep cuffs and no collar and a deep red velvet waistcoat with golden buttons and finally a beautiful velvet collared frock coat. There was also a pair of suspenders and a length of black velvet ribbon. He placed the things over a chair and stood it in the middle of the room so Floyd couldn't miss it. He ran his fingers over his sweater vest and wondered why he loved to see Floyd dressed like this so much, yet had absolutely no desire to do it him self.
Now time to track down the coffee.
Aaron was in the kitchen with a mug in his hand. Spencer saw him check Reid over for fresh bruises.
"Sleep well?"
Reid nodded. "Yes I did." And smiled. "Coffee. Wonderful."
"He drugged me last night. Spencer I came here hoping I could protect you from him but I don't think it is working. I don't want to become one of his victims Spencer."
Reid bit on his bottom lip and poured coffee into his mug. He poured sugar straight from the container. "I am not a victim Aaron." He stirred the drink vigorously. "I am here with Floyd because I don't think I can imagine my life without him."
"Even though he is what he is?" Aaron had small frown lines on his brow.
"Even though he is what he is – you don't know all of what he is Aaron. You only see the bad things."
"Spencer - that is because there are only bad things. The only time he does anything nice is to get something from you."
Reid turned away from Hotch and started to walk from the kitchen. "You don't know him like I do."
Hotch followed. "I don't know if I want to."
"Then leave. Pack up your things and leave." He turned to face Aaron. "Do you think I want you here in my home? This is my place too you know. I don't know that I want you hanging around my partner. Exactly what is it you want? I've seen the way you look at him. I know your game Hotch. You lost your wife and now want to destroy what I have. You are jealous – suck it up Aaron. He is with me."
Aaron just stood and stared at the young man shouting at him. He had only ever seen him act out like this a few times before and that had been to do with drugs.
"Spencer – are you using again?" The thoughts turned into words before he could stop it.
He didn't get a reply but he saw the hurt in the exposed eye. He saw he had hit somewhere painful with his words and wanted desperately to take them back. Aaron reached out a hand to him, but Spencer turned and walked towards the front door.
He unlocked the door so he could go out and sit on the porch to drink his coffee and seriously think about what Aaron had just said to him. Reid swung the door open and saw something. He glanced down.
"Oh – Aaron – quickly get Floyd!"