Return to Babylon
Brian:- It's not lying if they make you lie. If the only truth they can accept is their own.
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
He was looking at the wall. Curled up on his side laying in his own vomit, his breathing irregular and sobbing. His ears ringing and his eyes twitching side to side. Spencer curled his toes up in some last resort to protect himself from the onslaught which had finished some hours ago now. He could feel his hands shaking and as he tried to move – keeping his eyes closed – all he managed to do was throw up again, so he curled up tighter and tried to protect the small amount of dignity he still had.
Floyd lay on the bed on his side swearing and letting the blood drip steadily from his nose onto the hardwood floor next to the bed. He needed something to hold against his face to try to stop the continual flow. The 'splat splat' sound was beginning to make his stomach turn. It was like Chinese torture with his own blood. Slowly and carefully he moved his feet off the bed and onto the floor avoiding his bodily fluids. Holding onto firstly the bed and then to the wall he made a slow dizzy headed journey out to find the bathroom. He stood for a second and looked down at Spencer and frowned trying to remember what had happened.
As his own blood fell to join Spencer's he moved on towards the bathroom. There was nothing he could do here until he had sorted out his own head.
About half an hour later he returned and knelt on the floor next to Spencer. "Spence? You ok?"
Nothing in return. Floyd looked at the blood which had bubbled out of his ear and the way his hair was stuck to the sweat on his face. He looked at how he had both legs curled up. That must hurt. Where was his brace? Why was everything so foggy? These damned drugs – he was going to have to change the mix again. Too strong. They were going to kill him. A hand on Reid's shoulder. "Babes?" and he turned him over onto his back to get a better look. Could be worse. Floyd sighed. Split lip, black eye, bloodied nose, and nasty finger marks around his throat. He stank of sweat and other liquids he had oozed and leaked when he was laying there unable to move. Vomit stuck to his hair. "You stink, I'm gonna get you to the shower."
Spencer could vaguely feel someone picking him up off the floor. He wanted to open his eyes to see who it was; he wanted it to be Aaron. He wanted to be saved from this mistake he had made, but he knew that voice. Though he couldn't understand the words, he recognised that accent.
The water was hot. Maybe too hot, but in Floyd's fuddled mind it needed to be hot, he could hear Reid moaning as the water hit his skin. Floyd pulled the dirty clothes off him and left him curled up on the floor of the shower for a few minutes. Washing wasn't one of Floyd's favourite pastimes and he would avoid it, but he liked his Spence to be clean. After a while he rubbed shampoo into Reid's hair and soap over his body trying not to get too wet himself. "Wake up a bit Spence."
He turned off the water and wrapped Reid in a towel. He carried him back to the bed room and dumped him down on the bed. "Sort yourself out." He pushed Spencer's hair off his face. "You know I wouldn't hurt your on purpose. Just sometimes Spence…."
Floyd got up and stood watching. Reid wasn't moving. Just laying how he had been dumped down. He sat back down on the bed and put a hand on Spencer's cheek pulling his face around to look at him. "Open your eyes Spence." No response. "You want me to leave you alone?" Still nothing. "Hell babes you would think this was my fault."
Spencer could hear the voice but was having a problem responding to it. He wanted to open his eyes but it was proving difficult. He wanted to put a hand out and touch Floyd but he didn't seem able to do that either. Hands – gentle hands moving over him. Feeling where he hurt. Looking at the injuries. A sharp intake of breath and for a few minutes it seemed he had been abandoned again. Left in this agony, but then hands holding him; Arms tightly around him.
"Drink this babes." A straw was slipped gently between his lips. "Drink up Spence. It will make you feel better." Spencer slowly sucked up some of the liquid into his mouth. Nothing could make him feel worse than he did right now so it would either help or kill him. Either way Reid didn't really care right now.
Swallowing hurt where tight spiteful hands had gripped too tightly. The effort to swallow made his eyes water. Once the liquid had gone he felt the arms leave him.
Floyd paced the small apartment he was renting. This isn't what he planned. Spence was just too delicate. He needed him awake and able to walk by tonight. His intention now to take money from people at Babylon. He would get more then enough. A pretty cripple like Spence.
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He had one arm over Floyd's shoulder, and in the other hand a crutch but they were on their way to the club again whether Reid wanted to or not.
The outfits: low-cut black jeans with a loose fitting black shirt and his ever present dusty black cowboy boots. He had rings on his fingers and a smile on his face. A real smile. Spencer was in black jeans with a black T-shirt and somewhere Floyd had managed to get hold of some heavy duty boots to fit. His hair had dried fluffy and his skin was beautiful and white. His eyes wide and vulnerable looking especially as one was half closed, but that was fine. Some people liked them looking like that. Sickly and weak.
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She stood with her friends. A night out. The weekend work free. Wonderful! Time to let her hair down and enjoy. Music pounding in her ears and dressed in combat pants and a tiny vest top her long glossy black hair fell free around her athletic shoulders – she stood with her girl friends and watched the scene below them holding a cocktail of some kind in her hand. A hand from the woman she stood with rested its self on her tight behind and she turned to brush lips with the lovely blond she was with. Tongues quickly licked lips before she turned to watch the throbbing crowd below again.
She looked at the top of the head and something inside her made her stomach turn over. That was a familiar head. She would know that fluffy hair anywhere. She tipped the drink back quickly and leaned further over the balcony to get a better look at what was going on. That was definitely Reid, and he was definitely with Flanders. She could see he was clutching hold of Flanders around the neck and holding a crutch in the other. She couldn't see his face from where she was.
Emily pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at it. "Shit." Her friend looked at her puzzled.
"What's wrong?" Her friend asked, but Prentiss was already walking away.
"Later, sweetheart. I will catch you later." She called back over her shoulder and was gone running down the stairs to try to get a better look at Reid. She had to be sure, and to be sure she had to see his face.
Reid was standing next to the entrance to the back room leaning on the wall sipping on a drink. Flanders was talking to someone standing next to them. Money exchanged hands. And Reid's eyes went big. Floyd took the drink from his hands. "Just do what he wants. I will be watching."
Spencer's mind was getting foggy again as the new arrival pulled him limping through the door way. Floyd was about ten paces behind. Prentiss about ten behind him. She watched as the person she suspected was Reid was led off into the back room. The place was too busy – too many people in the way for her to get a definite ID on him.
Spencer was forced down to his knees. The leg brace now gone was not in the way. He looked up at the blond, tattoo covered man Floyd had sent him off with and through a fuzzy mind knew what he was meant to be doing.
She stood back in the crowds and waited. She wasn't going to call this in until she was one hundred percent sure it was him. She watched Flanders and she watched the door. Money was exchanging hands, but it could have been for anything. Drugs, drinks, money owned, she didn't know. All she felt she could do now was stand and wait. It was about two hours before she saw who she had suspected was Reid, and now she was now sure it was him. She noted the bruising around his eye, and the swollen lip.
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That night Spencer earned Floyd a few hundred dollars. It was just after 1am when they started to make a move towards the exit. Floyd holding Reid's hand tightly – leaving early. Flanders could see Spence was looking ill again and he wanted him home and rested for the following evening. He kissed him gently on his swollen lips and smiled happily at his little rent boy.
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Prentiss followed them out of the building and with a sigh – oh god why did Reid have to be here?- she dialled Hotch.
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