11

Sam's Screaming Rant.

So I took the gun and legged it. What's he going to do now? He'll sit and sulk and wait for me to come back because in the end he's just a stupid fucker. My cunning plan is to go and see Father Green and give him one last chance to do what's right.

I don't fucking know what's right anymore. He abused his privilege and position and then abused me. And then he made me go and kill those others and that was his fault and not mine! And I wont take the fucking blame for him causing me to do things which I wouldn't do unless so distressed by his FILTHY actions… that I totally like lost my fucking mind.

It's come to the point now where I don't know what really went on. But I think that's because I'm so fucking distressed over it all that I cant control myself anymore.

I'm insane.

I might end up being locked up somewhere but only until I'm better. I will plead insanity if they catch me. Floyd will pay out for some corrupt lawyer and all will be good. I'll have to take some kind of punishment… But that's only if I'm caught and this is Spencer's gun and he's going to be in shit too for letting me use it isn't he? I would imagine so. And he's not bonkers and he will end up in prison and he'll feel what it's like to be raped and no one fucking believing you.

I've stopped running for a bit cos my head's gone all swimmy. But I'm thinking that maybe I'm wrong and it's more like I abused the priest. Was that how this all started? I really cant remember anymore. I would deny it though. Priests get killed all the time. No one thinks much of it anymore do they? It's not like in the sixteen hundreds when you couldn't go after a priest so easily. You had to be real fucking careful and let them come to you first. Pick on the wrong one and you're buggered – no pun intended at all, but you know what I mean? You had to be sure he was a molester and pervert first or they'd have you hanging by your sweet soft pale neck and you'd be one dead fag. OK… my head's feeling much better now and I'm sort of regretting bringing the gun cos I don't want to be forced to use it, but the priest only lives just around the corner. It's a ten minute walk from where I am now leaning against a wheelie bin and taking in the sweet smells of old sex and damp bodies. I've worked this place before. You don't get much here but an itch and a prescription for something to cure the rash. Which reminds me that I have Spencer's meds with me, but I'm going to keep them for now… I need such a clear head for what I'm about to do next and I've though got this fucking plan in my head something keeps twisting it and making me want to do something else.

I'm now standing in front of his door and all the lights are out, but it's only early morning, but not so early he'd be sleeping and not so late that he'd be out. I hope not anyway. So I knock on the door and wait a bit. Then I ring the bell over and over again and nothing. I press my ear to the door and listen and still cant hear a thing. I push open the letter box and peer in and see nothing at all. His coat which hangs on a hook just inside the door is gone. He's not here. I kick at the door and scream and I make so much fuss and noise that I don't hear the footsteps behind me and I don't know that there is someone there until a stinking hand belonging to that mother fucking Mary-Agnes settles on my shoulder.

'He's not here.' Her voice says and I swing around and somehow the gun is in my hand and I'm waving it at her.

'Why the fuck not? Where is he? I'm going to kill the bastard for what he's done to me!' I almost hope that she asks what that is but she doesn't. I was going to give her some details and see her go hot and weak at the knees with the imagery.

'There's no point in getting angry with me Sam. I didn't send him away. He left very early this morning.'

I wave the gun around a bit and though I hate the bitch I'd not shoot her but I don't want her to know that. She doesn't look scared though. 'When will he be back?'

She fucking steps past me and has a key in her hand and is unlocking the door.

'A temporary replacement will be sent. Father Green wont be back.'

'Where is he?' Somehow the gun is back in my pocket.

'Sam, I think you've caused enough problems for Father Green. I'm not going to tell you where he's gone and if you come back here again and try to threaten me or anyone else I will call the police. You're a lucky young man.' She walks through the door.

'I don't feel lucky. I feel abused and raped and shat on and abandoned.' I manage to get a bit of a lip quivering going on.

'You are lucky.' She says again. 'Because you're not in some locked ward somewhere. You need help Sam. I suggest that you seek it in places other than the church. I don't get the feeling that this is the right environment for you.'

'What do you mean by that? You're turning me away?'

She gave me a small half smile and started to close the door. 'Yes. And if you're not off the premises within five minutes I will call the police and tell them you have a weapon and are a threat. See how lucky you day is becoming?' And BANG the door is shut and I'm left standing on the doorstep like a fucking idiot. I should have killed her when I had the chance. I go and sit on the church steps but I think that she'll know I'm there and call someone and I'll have cops pointing guns at me.

I feel so sick.

I feel so sick and tired. I should have stayed with Spencer. I think I'm so confused because of the hit I got on the back of my neck. I think this is all Spencer's fault. If he'd been nice to me and… I rub at sore spot on my shoulder and smile miserably to myself. I guess in the end he was nice to me. I go and sit on a small brick wall and look at the ground. I'm going to count to fifty and then go back to Spencer's place. There's no point in hanging around here. I pull out the pain killers and pop one into my mouth when I count the number one. I keep going until I'm on twenty something and I've a real nasty taste in my mouth and I feel even more sick than I did before and I know I'm crying because I'm feeling so fucking sorry for myself and I want Floyd so badly it's physically hurting and causing a terrible buzzing in my ears and then suddenly someone is standing in front of me. I can see who it is by the crappy shoes he's got on his feet.

'I've not done anything.' I think I say that but talking makes me want to puke. Spencer kneels down right in my vomit line of fire. He's going to regret kneeling there if I puke-vomit all over him.

'You took my gun.' Spencer accuses.

'I've not used it.' I sulk back at him.

'You think that makes it all right to do?' Spencer seems mad… I take another pill and look at him in the face as I crunch down.

'Do you love me? I ask him.

He sighs and puts out his hand and I give him the pack of vitamins. 'I need the gun back Sam. Now.' He wont take them from me.

I drop the vitamins onto the ground and take out the gun and point it at Spencer. 'Do you love me?' I ask again.

He nods slowly. 'I'm here aren't I?'

I stand up and push the gun close to his shoulder. 'That's not what I fucking well asked! That's not a bloody answer! I want to know if you love me or not! I want to know if you're going to abandon me like everyone else does! I want to know! I need to know if you're like everyone else.'

Spencer doesn't move. He just blinks a few times and then licks his lips. 'Sam – If I say now that I love you it will mean nothing. I thought we'd talked about this. Give me the gun. Stop chewing on the pills. Then we will talk. We will go and have coffee somewhere and talk about this.'

I throw the gun down on the ground next to Spencer. It makes a horrible clack sound. I hadn't loaded it. The bullets are in my pocket. When Spencer picks up the gun I pull them out and hand them over. 'I'd not have shot anyone.' I tell him. I just…

Spencer is shaking his head. 'Sam… this is the end.'

'What do you mean?' He snatches the bullets from me and everything is put in his pocket. 'What are you talking about?'

'Get in the car.' He snaps nastily at me.

I want to know where we're going cos I have a feeling it wont be back to his place. 'Spencer where are we going? I'm sorry!' He opens the car door and prods my back until I get in. He slams it and walks to the drivers side and gets in. 'Where are we going?'

'I should take you to see Hotch.' He is in a pissed mood it seems. 'But I'm going to take you to the ER and see if you've taken enough pills to kill you. I'm almost hoping you have.'

'I thought you wanted me! I thought you'd never abandon me!' I wail as he pulls away. 'You said we were going for a coffee and a chat! You lied to me! You're like everyone else.'

'Grow up Sam. Stop talking and behaving like a spoilt child. You have taken too many pills. That's you not me. Don't you go blaming me for any of this. I will take you to ER and we will make sure you are well. Then we will discuss other things. I'm not going to talk to you about my emotional feelings about you all the time you continue to betray and harm yourself and behave like a child. You're a grown adult Sam. Learn to behave like one. Take responsibility for your own actions. Stop accusing other people of running out and abandoning you when you push everyone away and drive them to despair.'

I shut up. I don't want to hear this shit. I puke all over my lap and down my legs and onto the floor of his car though. Serves him fucking well right.

Floyd Talks About Spencer.

Floyd's day started out with being forced to swallow a bucket full of medication. He tried to refuse and he was given some options… he chose after considering those options which ranged from injections to going back into a straightjacket that to swallow the damned things might be the best choice. He was far from happy about it. He let them know. They offered him a padded room and so he calmed down again. He was given some orange juice to drink, which tasted slightly warm – (he made a loud messy complaint about that and didn't drink it.) He was given something which might have been a porridge type thing which he stirred around in his bowl and enquired if they'd mistaken him for a pig and shouldn't they be giving slops to a porker and not someone who was obviously suffering. They explained to him that he needed to eat something. They wanted to know when he last ate. Floyd couldn't answer that. Food wasn't the most important thing in his life and he had no clue how many days had passed since… well since anything really. He seemed to be stuck in a timeless fog. He wanted to go back to his room but was informed that there was someone here who would like to talk to him about something. He was taken to a small room with a couch and a desk and asked to sit at the desk. Someone was going to be right with him. He sat and sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips. He felt horribly tired which was stupid because he'd been sleeping for what felt like years so it must have been the medication. Floyd made the decision to not take any more of the crap they offered him.

A door opened and Floyd turned to see who it was.

'Agent Aaron Hotchner. What a lovely surprise. I see you've dressed down for the occasion. I must say I'm disappointed. I love to see you get all sweaty in your suit. Jeans and Tshirt for me though huh? Well welcome, take a seat, have a laugh. What is it I can do for you?'

Hotch just stood at the door looking at Floyd for a minute. Maybe he was trying to decide if he considered Floyd to be safe to be locked in a room with. He nodded a greeting and sat down the other side of the desk which was secured to the floor with metal L shaped things.

'You're looking well.' Hotch said.

Floyd wasn't sure what to make of that statement. 'You were expecting something else? Why are you here?'

Hotchner placed a folder down on the desk and Floyd frowned at it. This always meant the same thing. He was here to question him about something which he may or may not have been a party to. Hotch pulled out a photograph and pushed it over to Floyd who stared down at the grainy picture and then looked up at Hotch.

'Do you know this person?'

Floyd blinked and looked down at it again. Of course he knew him. He knew him intimately. 'No. Should I?'

Hotch tapped the photograph and asked Floyd to look more carefully. He said. 'That's what I'm trying to find out.'

'A wasted journey for you Hotchner.' Floyd rubbed at his eyes again and then rested fists on his temples. 'I feel slightly tired. Can you come back when I'm not so… sedated?'

'I think now is a good time to talk to you Floyd. This man was killed Christmas Eve.'

Floyd pushed the picture away. 'That's nice. I arrive back in the city just in time for you to pin a murder on me. I'm rather flattered. I've not been well Agent Aaron Hotchner… killing people has not really been something I've been considering.'

Hotch pulled out a slip of paper and passed it to Floyd. It was a coroners report. 'Please read that carefully.' He said.

And Floyd did. He read it once and then read it again. He ran his finger down the paper and frowned at a couple of bits and then looked up at Hotch. 'OK I can see why you thought this might have been me, but it wasn't. I'm not the only murdering sodomite cannibal whore junky motherfucker on the planet and I was actually at home Christmas Eve. Ask Spencer.'

'At home? Do you mean at Reid's apartment?' He sounded pissed off about something and Floyd started to feel suddenly very hot. The chair it seemed was constructed in such a manner to make someone start to slide off it. Floyd gripped onto the desk to keep himself from sliding under it.

'The apartment might well be in Reid's name but I pay all bills associated with it. Everything from the rent to the… to the… utilities… and the other crap stuff… I'm falling asleep. But so yes… or no…' He paused and adjusted how he was sitting again. 'So what I'm trying to say is that Reid is perfectly happy to accept my money to pay for where he lives and so I would count it as my place too wouldn't you Agent Aaron Hotchner? I have a key, the alarm code, the door codes… it's my place. If that was all you wanted to talk to me about then you can fuck off. I'm falling asleep here.'

Hotch placed the bits of paper back into the folder. 'Wherever you go we will know.' He tells Floyd. 'You do something, anything from being pulled up for speeding to buying a pint in a bar on a card and we will know.'

'Nice to be that popular. I could have you arrested for stalking. That's got to be illegal. I suppose you've had my name on your system for a while. Just waiting for it to pop up flashing red where you? I'm sorry to disappoint. I've no involvement in any murders or rapes or any such fucking stuff.' Floyd stood and then sat back down again. 'You know if you've been watching out for me that I've done nothing for a while and what I actually mean by that is there's been no imaginary crime you could pin on me. Now do you think that might be because I've not actually done anything? It's worth a thought Hotchner don't you think? It's not me you need to be watching. You're wasting resources and you're wasting my time.'

Hotch picked up the folder but kept his eyes firmly on Flanders. 'I hate to burst your over inflated bubble Flanders, but it's not just you we're watching. Anyone connected to you – any squeak from anyone and we know.' He paused waiting for some kind of reaction but it looked to Hotch as though he'd lost Floyd's interest completely. It looked as though Floyd was going to fall asleep. 'Sam.' He said the one word and regained Floyd's attention immediately.

'What about him?'

'When did you last see him?'

'I'm going to have to say that I don't want to answer questions about Sam. It's none of your fucking business when I last saw him and as I'm not in an official fuck up I'm going to tell you to piss off. By fuck up I mean you've not arrested me and I've not been cautioned. You're just sticking your fucking nose in where it's not wanted. How's Jack? When did you last see him? He must be growing fast. He'll be a man before you know what's happened. You'll be an old fucked up ex-Fed and I'll still be out there screwing with your head and fucking your son. How long until he's old enough? Fifteen years? Ten years? Somewhere in between I think… I hope you'll still have that slag Garcia looking at her fucking computers awaiting my name to pop up then Aaron. Keep your loved ones close. You've messed up once. Don't let it happen again. But as this is off the record and nothing I say here can be used in evidence and you're not recording it and no one is listening and you're not writing anything down and I'm surely going to deny every fucking thing I say… Jack will be mine.'

Floyd then placed his arms on the table, rested his head down and looked as though he was about to sleep. Hotchner sat and stared at the man the other side of the desk and slowly stood. 'I will get you eventually. I will…'

'Is that so? Well be quick Aaron… your time is running out. Go play with your boy while you have the chance.'

'Don't you threaten me or my family.' The rage in Hotch's voice wasn't even slightly disguised.

Flanders glanced up and smirked. 'It wasn't a threat Aaron. I promise to take very good care of your son. Look how well I care for my own. My apologies if you thought it was a threat. It's this damned medication. I really do need to sleep now. Have a safe journey home. It would be such a shame for that sweet boy to be orphaned at such an early age.'

Hotchner wanted to say more. Hotchner wanted to reach over the desk and throttle Flanders. Hotch's hand went to his throat. It felt like his tie was choking him, but there was no tie there. He left the room without saying more. It seemed the more he wanted to know the more Flanders was going to say things just to give Hotch the excuse to kill him and that was exactly what Floyd wanted right now. Floyd would have loved a fight… but Hotchner walked away and left him dozing with his head on the table.

Garcia's Mutterings.

I was just clearing up… sorting through things which need to be sorted through. I hate my computers getting in a muddle. I love the peace and order they give me. Computers are my best friend. I really don't like it when I'm called to do things with them that I don't like. Hotch is standing behind my chair saying nothing and I know he's going to either ask what he thinks is impossible or he's going to ask me something I don't want to do. I turn and look at his face and it's going to be a I don't want to do it situation. I can see by the expression on his face and I know we don't have a real active case right now.

'Sir?' I ask him.

He pulls up a chair and sits down next to me. I don't like this one bit. This is going to be bad news I sure of it. Have lost my job? Surely that news would come from someone else unless he's asked to drop the bombshell. I can feel my cheeks are burning with the panic which is begging to fill me.

'I want you to do something for me. Off the record.'

Uh oh. I pick up a pen with a fluffy top and fiddle with it and then put it down again and pick up the knitted banana and then I put that down again and I close down the windows I had open and pick up the fluffy topped pen again. 'Is it going to get me into trouble?' I ask him. Though I am sure he'd not ask if he thought it would.

'I have concerns… I need to know something about one of my agents.'

I pull a face at him. I don't like the sound of where this is going. I put the pen down and stare at the monitors. It's times like this that my best friends betray me and they feel like turncoats. The lovely peaceful order they bring me is shattered. 'I see.' But of course I don't. I just don't know what else to say. 'What would you like me to find out?'

'I need to know who is paying Reid's utility bills.'

I heard him wrong and turn to look at him. I remove my glasses and clean them and then put them back on again and frown. 'Reid's utility bills sir?' It sounds like such a ridiculous request and the words just all feel so wrong in my mouth that I think I'm going to laugh.

'I want a list. All his utility bills and rent. I need to know who's paying it. I'll wait.'

I personally would have assumed that Reid was paying them, but Hotch wouldn't be asking if he was would he? Is Reid in debt? Is he in financial trouble? I don't know that I want to see what's going to turn up but my fingers just play over the keys and I run a couple of programs and have a quick look. A couple of glances at Hotch probably let him know that what I'm looking at I wasn't expecting.

'I don't know.' I tell him after a few minutes. 'It doesn't say. There's money paid in regularly but not from Reid's account… not in Reid's name and before you ask I cant tell you who it is.' I should be able to but the programme throws me back to a previous page every time I try to get the name. It's as though there's a bug or glitch there. 'It wont let me see the name of the account holder, but it's in Italy… I can tell you that much. Each month different amounts are paid to different companies which have been registered with Reid… the rent, the electricity, water, even his tax… everything is paid at least a week in advance via the same account in Italy. Why Italy?' I sort of ask Hotch that hoping for an answer but I'm asking my stupid computer the question too. 'His car insurance, life insurance, house insurance, everything. Reid doesn't pay a thing out of his own accounts. His internet, television…' I pause and think about that. 'Reid doesn't own a television does he? But there's also a small amount paid into Reid's personal bank account from that one in Italy… and I cant access it. It's locked down with something which I will be able to get through eventually but it's going to take me a while.'

Hotch says absolutely nothing at all. He just sits there looking at my fingers and I'm wondering if he's as confused by this as I am. I think he probably is, but knows something… and that something is going to be passed to me right now.

'What about Flanders. Have you checked his banking recently?'

I prod the bridge of my glasses. 'It's the same as always sir. Small amounts withdrawn from various places. He never uses credit cards, at least not that I can trace and he never buys on the hock. Everything in cash upfront as far as I can tell.'

'I need to know where he gets his money from Garcia.'

I pick up the pen. I'm sure we've had this discussion before. 'I don't know where it comes… OH!' Quickly I spin back to the screen. 'Last time I checked on this there was… yes…' I point to the screen in a taa daa sort of way but Hotch doesn't see what I see. 'He gets money paid into his account from an unknown source… I've never been able to trace that… but look. I go back to that place in Italy and there it is. I cant say for sure it's the same place but the exact same amounts are taken from this unknown odd account and deposited into Flanders account. And if you look at the timing…' I jab my pen towards the screen. '…For example at 2am he withdrawers five hundred dollars and two minutes later the same amount is deposited into his account. Now… if I go back and look at the account which is paying Reid's bills for him I can see at that exact same time that exact amount of money is paid to unknown account here.'

Hotch sighs and stands. 'Thank you Garcia… and if you can just keep this between the two of us…'

'Of course! You don't have to even say… of course. Is Reid in trouble sir?'

He doesn't answer but leaves my bunker and lets the door close quietly behind him. I am about to close the windows but curiosity gets the better of me I have to know how long this has been going on. What I see makes my face go hot and I need a pee. I don't know if I should tell Hotch. I should. I know I should. But Reid? Why? All across my screen I'm getting "Paid in by unknown vendor" and not just for this year or last year even… not even going back to when he joined the BAU but going right the way back to when he was in high school. Quickly I close the little windows down. I don't think anyone needs to know that. Surely no one needs to know. I should tell Hotch. Even Reid's mothers medical bills are paid by this Unknown Vendor which I have such a nasty feeling is Flanders. Didn't I hear once that he spent a lot of time in southern Italy? Where did I hear that? Am I just imagining that because it fits?