A Not So Grande Finale

!!I support the 2007 WGA Strike!!

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

A/N wasn't going to do this….but now I feel I should. I don't much do happy endings so please don't expect one. If you were content with the way the last chapter ended, plz don't feel the need to read this!

He sat on his bed with his head slightly tilted to one side. He had closed off all the sounds from around him. He didn't want to hear it. He wanted to be alone but this wasn't ever going to happen again. Surrounded by people locked in their own little worlds. Some had been here for decades rather than years. Appeal after appeal, and occasionally it will work and they will slide through the system and out the other side and will be free from their death sentence, and at least not be here. Sitting doing nothing with only voices in your head to keep you company.

They guy straight across from him kept calling out. "Oy! You! New boy - what you here for?"

But he ignored it.

When they first brought him in he had tried to cut his writs with some glass so now he was watched all the time. They took his belt, they took his glasses, they took his shoes and they made it very clear that if he tried anything else they would strip him down completely. So he just sat now. Waiting. Today someone was coming to see him. A break in routine. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't have any fight left in him. His last bit of willpower left when he pulled the trigger and shot his friend between the eyes.

"Get up." A voice the other side of the cell bars. He knew the routine here. He stood with his feet slightly apart and his hands out in front. He kept his eyes down looking at the floor and watched as they attached the leg irons and the chain coming up to the cuffs they put on his hands. He was escorted clanking down the aisle either side of him jeering prisoners shouting abuse and comments which he about managed to block by reciting information over and over in his head.

He was manhandled down to a door at the end which opened as they approached. They stood in the area it open up into. A square. He heard the door behind him close and lock and then the door in front of him opened and he was pushed forwards. No love for bent cops, absolutely no love for wayward FBI agents who murdered their partners. He was now standing, still looking down at his feet, in a corridor. Two doors on either side. Big reinforced doors with tiny windows set at eye height for the average man. They took him to the second door on his left and the guard used an electronic key to open it.

Spencer was told to sit on the chair in the middle of the room, and the chains holding his hands and feet were now secured to the metal chair he was sitting on. This chair bolted to the floor. They didn't intend taking any risks with this one. Give him a chance and he will try to hang himself. He sat and looked down at his hands. There was another chair on the other side of the room. This would be where his guest for the day would sit. He had no idea who it would be. He had been seen by the chaplain, just to ask if he would like prayer sessions arranged, which he didn't. He had been seen by a lawyer, did he want to appeal? – No he didn't. He had been seen by psychiatrists and by people writing books, and so who this was going to be today was anyone's guess.

Almost as soon as the door opened though, he knew who it was, and Reid wanted to get away. He didn't want to be seen by this person. He couldn't face this person. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself and pull his knees up and hold himself together. Keep himself safe, but that smell was still comforting, and so he kept still and kept his eyes down.

"Reid." He didn't respond. Hotch had been told this was the normal reaction he could expect. A big fat zero. He watched Reid carefully for a minute. Watched how still he was. How un-natural he looked sitting still. His hands laying limp in the cuffs and his feet looked cold and sore. "What happened to your feet?"

Spencer wasn't expecting that sort of question. He was expecting another session of 'why' and 'how' but this was personal and almost caring.

"Reid, please look at me." Spencer could feel pain in Hotch's voice. He looked up slowly, trying to keep his hair over his face and hide his soul from Aaron.

Aaron saw a blank expression. He saw yellow bruising around Reid's eye, he saw the split lip and the blue mark along his jawline. He wanted desperately to get up and hold his broken person.

"They should be protecting you from the other inmates Spencer."

A small nod. "They are."

"Spencer, you rejected your chance to appeal against this."

"I know. I know what I did Hotch. I planned it. How can I appeal against it?"

Hotch shook his head. "I can help you. We can arrange treatment."

Reid's face finally made an expression other than blank. It looked confused. "Treatment for what?"

"The psychosis, I need to find out if it was.."

Reid cut him off. "I knew what I was doing Hotch. That is the whole point. I am not my mother. I'm not crazy."

Again the urge to get up and hold his man. "I didn't mean to imply that." He watched the eyes go back to looking at the floor again.

"It has been decided Aaron. Leave it be. This is what I want. I don't want to appeal; I don't want t t treatment. There is nothing – nothing wrong with me. I knew what I I I was doing. It was – was premeditated. I went to Morgan's home with one goal in mind and I was - and I was successful. There really isn't anything else to say. Thank you for coming to s s see me, but I really need to be left alone n now. Go back to Haley and Jack and forget about me. It m makes everyone's life so much easier."

Hotch knew this was killing another part of what was left of Reid, and he could feel his tears fighting to come. He stood up slowly and walked to Spencer and knelt down in front of him. "Spencer."

He kept his face down but he could small Aaron's apple shampoo and he could smell that safe smell. "You aren't meant to get this close. They have rules."

"Look at me Spencer." And he put a hand under Reid's chin to lift his face level with his own "I don't know what happened. I don't understand why you did what you did, but I believe in you. I know it was for a reason. I just don't know what it was." He pushed some of Reid's hair off his sticky sweaty face.

Reid wanted to reach out and touch Hotch's face, but his hands were secured too tightly. He felt the light kiss on his cheek, and watched him stand up. "Hotch." His voice came out as a choked sob. Aaron crouched back down again and held Reid's hands. Hotch felt the tightness of the squeeze Spencer gave him back. "Do you still have nightmares Aaron?" He was whispering.

Hotch nodded. "Every night."

"This will end them you know. Once it is finished the nightmares will stop."

"I know." And he thought how he would rather have the horrific nightmares and Reid, than lose them both. But he didn't. He squeezed Reid's hands tighter and bent down slightly to give each of his fingers a kiss. Spencer looked down at the top of Aaron's head and his heart started to beat too hard and his breathing was too shallow, and he saw Hotch stand up again. "Goodbye Spencer." And he watched as the feet moved away, and Reid thought he was going to die. The pain was unbelievable and now as the door closed behind him he couldn't breathe and he couldn't move.

When the guards came in the get him and take him back to his cell he couldn't stand up. The pushed and dragged and then finally kicked him back into his cell and removed the restraints. They left him curled up on the floor wondering why he was still here.

"Oy you new boy! What you here for? Why don't they let you out with us? You a paedo? You been killing and raping babies? What did you do what's got them so wound up in here?"

He shut off the shouts of, "Paedo baby killing scum." Let them think what they wanted. It didn't matter any more.

His food was left to get cold. He didn't feel like eating. How could be eat? Why would he bother? There was no point in anything now. Just a wait, a long wait until the end. They made note that he hadn't touched his food and they made note that he was still laying on the floor. The other inmates had given up their taunts for now, absolutely no fun if you never get a response.

……………..

Another night time. Lights dimmed but not off. At least that was a small blessing. He was never in the dark. As long as he could stay awake he would be safe. He just needed to stay awake. He dragged himself to his bed and lay down facing the wall. He reached out and ran his fingers down the surface of the wall. Something real and as the night went on and he listened now to the calls and whimpers from the other men trapped in here his eyes slid shut and the darkness pulled him back under the ground. He could feel the mud being thrown on him and the feet stamping on him and the water reaching his nose, and he could feel he was spinning and twisting and falling and holding a calloused hand in his.

"It's OK Spence." And he felt someone lay on the bed behind him. "It's all sorted. Not much longer now." And now he could feel the hot breath on the back of his neck and arms enfolding him and pulling him close.

…………….

The following day he was restrained again and taken down to the room he had seen Aaron in. He as again secured to the chair and left for a few minutes. He heard someone enter and sit down on the chair the other side of the room. But Spencer didn't look up. He wasn't interested in anything anyone had to say to him. It had all been said a thousand times over.

"Spencer." It was Gideon. Reid looked up slowly at his mentor and saw a very troubled sad face looking back at him.

"Gideon. I need to tell you something." He saw Jason nod. "When Pepe had me. When he was forcing me to do things – you were there with me. I didn't beg. I didn't call for help. I need you to know that. I never once begged or pleaded. I didn't try to work him out the way I did Hankel." Another nod. Was that all he came here to do?

"I'm glad you didn't beg Spencer. You need to keep that with you. Hold that inside. Don't let anyone take that dignity from you."

"You hate me. I never wanted you to hate me."

Jason leaned forward in his chair trying to see this man he thought of as his son closer. Trying to get a peek into his soul. "I don't hate you Spencer. I am distressed. I don't understand what happened. What went wrong? When did it start to go wrong Spencer?"

He thought for a little while. "The day I killed Dowd." Again a nod from Jason.

"I told you then, that you did what you needed to do. You saved lives that day." Such a sad calm voice. "I was and I still am proud of you."

Reid licked his lips. "I know what you said. I know."

A long pause as the older man looked at the younger man who was staring at bruised looking feet.

"If you need anything. If there is something you want to talk about. Something, anything, you know don't you Spencer I will fight for you."

Reid glanced up. "I don't want to appeal Gideon, I just want it all to hurry up and end."

Gideon ran his hand over his face. He could feel the tears welling up behind his eyes. He didn't want Reid to see that. Spencer didn't need that as memory – pity – so he stood up and walked over to Spencer and placed a hand on the top of his head. "I love you. You know that don't you?"

A gasping sobbing sound was his reply.

………………

Again his food was untouched.

This time someone came to talk to him about it. He was sitting on his bed looking at his feet when the doors to his cell opened and someone came in.

He was told about the damage he would do to himself if he didn't eat. Could he please at least drink something? They could get him something with nutrients in it if he felt unable to eat. Reid asked this concerned sounding person what the point was. He asked why they were bothering. Reid was informed that a trip to the infirmary will be required if he kept up this silly refusal to eat and what was he protesting against anyway?

He told them he was protesting against being here. Still being here. He wanted it over with. Reid was told that if he wasn't eating by tomorrow he would be strapped to a bed in the infirmary and will be given intravenous fluids. He wouldn't be able to kill himself by starving, so he may as well eat and stop behaving like a child.

……………….

He curled up again that night and put his hands on the wall and sobbed on the inside and then screamed on the inside. When the arms wrapped themselves around him and he felt the soft kiss on the back of his neck he started a soft quiet cry.

"Shush, it's ok Spence. I'm here with you."

And Spencer pushed back against the form on the bed behind him needing to feel crushed and absorbed by him. Needing more than just the arms around him and the gentle hands and the soft kisses.

"You need to do something for you Spence. Tomorrow. I need you to be in solitary somewhere."

"What do you mean?" Whispering and crying and needing voice.

"Start a fight, hit someone, do anything. I need you to be alone. Anywhere, it doesn't matter, just not here."

"I don't want to hurt anyone else. I have hurt enough people."

"Then think of something. I will see you tomorrow."

And the arms unwound from him and the hands held him gently on the shoulders and Spencer closed his eyes and slept his first night in months with no nightmares.

…………………….

He awoke early. He knew what he needed to do. Reid stood and walked to the bars which held him in. He started shouting. "Let me out!" He knew someone would come and tell him to shut up. He knew no one would let him out. But – but this is what he planned. It started with gentle taps. Banging his head on the bars as he shouted. Then as his voice got louder he hit his head harder. He had to be careful; he didn't want to knock himself out. Just make a mess. Cause a fuss.

Spencer felt the skin just on his hairline split and he felt the intense pain as he carried on smacking the wound against the bars. Head wounds bleed a lot. This was deliberate and planned. He was smiling on the inside. He was in control of something.

By the time the guards came running there were screams and shouts "He's killing himself – the paedo is topping himself!" and the blood was spaying nicely with each smack on the head. Well done – good effect. Well thought out and executed and he was giggling now and he could hear something cracking and splintering.

………………

They unlocked his door and pulled him away from the bars. He knew getting blood on them would really bother them so a bit of head shaking was in order as he sent tiny droplets of his life flying around the room. This was so good. This felt right. He knew and it made him laugh. They pulled him down to the floor and he kicked out and clawed with his fingernails and he could hear he was screaming with laughter. He could hear the insane noise he was making, but it seemed ok – all going to plan. He could hear the panic in the voices around him. Calling for the medic. Shouting for help and he could hear the jeering and shouting . Right up to when he felt the needle entered his leg and everything slid sideways and he was falling off the world and he fell gracefully down into the greyness.

…………..

He awoke in pain. His head hurt and he was laying on the floor again. But a different floor. A small square room. A big door with tiny window in it. Shuttered from the other side. He put a hand to his head. There was a huge dressing on it and he could smell antiseptic wash or cream. It reminded him of the smell of hospitals. Carefully he sat up and looked around this new room he was in. A bed and a toilet. That was the entire contents of his new world. Spencer looked down at his hands and saw they were shaking. His throat hurt, he had needle marks in the back of his hands and his chest was in agony. It felt like someone had been stamping on him again. He wasn't sure what had happened. The last thing he could remember was waking up from a dream free sleep.

None of it mattered though. He had done what was asked of him. He was alone. He was in some kind of solitary confinement somewhere. Very likely on suicide watch. He decided to watch the small window on the door. See how often they check up on him. He would have liked a drink, but nothing came sliding under his door. No sounds, nothing and nobody checked up on him

He slid sideways on the cot against the wall and closed his eyes.

Spencer must have been sleeping. He opened his eyes and the room was dimly lit and his hands were wrapped tightly around his knees drawn up tightly to his chest. Someone lay down behind him.

"Well done." The voice he needed to hear. "We can go now."

……………

A/N: Ok still a slightly open end…but that is as far as I will go with this. Already went further, much further than I ever intended. Sorry it was so long, but this really had to be done in one lump. Thank you all for sticking with this :c)