My Life Had Stood
Chapter 13: Lies Uncovered
"Hello." Alsie's quiet voice reached Spencer's ears after the hospital door slid open. Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached.
"Hello." Spencer returned a smile. He searched her face, wondering how he could've forgotten it. Why his subconscious had blocked out having met her when a child. "Ah. You brought a mini chess set."
"Yeah, well we didn't finish that chess game when we met all those years ago...so I thought maybe we could now...or later." Alsie placed down the portable chess set she'd purchased on way to the hospital. Her eyes took in all the get-well gifts Spencer's team had brought over the week.
Books, gift baskets, puzzles, a wide range of goodies. Alsie took all of it in, her expression indiscernible.
"What is it?" Spencer studied Alsie, noticing her gaze lingering on the gifts.
Alsie cleared her throat and sat down, returning her gaze to Spencer. "It's nothing. I...I was just reminded of when I got appendicitis. I was five. I woke up in a room like this."
"Oh." Spencer replied and started reciting some facts about appendicitis that he'd read. His rambling brought on by nervousness, habit, and partial relief. He had feared for a moment, upon seeing Alsie's expression, that being in a hospital had triggered an unpleasant memory of abuse.
Alsie smiled at Spencer's rambling. "The only thing I need to know about appendicitis is that it hurt like hell."
"Yeah. I can imagine." Spencer paused, thinking about what to say. He wanted to ask Alsie about her childhood, about what she'd experienced. But he accepted Alsie's condition to not talk about it.
"So, you had something you wished to talk about?"
"Yeah, first, um..." Spencer hesitated, the question he was about to ask something that had occurred to him after speaking to Alsie on the phone. "When we met at the cafe, did you know who I was?"
"When you introduced yourself." Alsie replied after a moment. "I recognized the name and you seemed familiar."
"...hm." Spencer twisted his lips in thought, studying Alsie. "What about the last time we met at that cafe? What you asked..."
"About pretend dating? It's all right. I understand if you don't want to...it's reasonable, considering things that you wouldn't want to. And my suggestion that we..."
It was Spencer's turn to smile at Alsie's rambling. "It's fine. Actually, I...I think pretending to date isn't something I can do. Sorry." He continued before Alsie could reply. "But I'm not against real dating. I...if you're not against it, I thought we could go for dinner. Or there are various events and exhibits opening at the Smithsonian Institution next month..."
Alsie listened quietly as Spencer started talking about the various museums and galleries that made up the Smithsonian.
"All right." She replied, interrupting Spencer. "Once you're better, we can attempt a date. But...just fair warning, I've never had a relationship that ended well."
Spencer gave a wistful smile, thinking about Maeve, and then about Lila, JJ and the few other women he'd ever had a romantic interest in. Each had either ended badly or never really moved past friendship. "...you're not alone in that regard."
0
David Rossi studied the room around him. Shelves of books and medical supplies locked away, filing cabinets and a small writing table that seemed unused in recent weeks. He glanced at the daybed by the bay window, then at the corner nearest it. An IV pole stood there, showing more signs of use than the table or the shelves.
"Hello. David Rossi, was it?" A woman, with gray hair pulled in a bun that still showed evidence of its once auburn hue, stepped into the room. Her steps were slower than they used to be, though not at all unsure. "Crystal Richards. Dr. Richards' wife."
Rossi shook the woman's proffered hand.
"I came here to see Dr. Richards about a delivery he oversaw in '79 when he was working in obstetrics." Rossi said after refusing an offer for coffee or tea. He also refused to sit down.
"I'm sorry, my husband isn't well enough for visitors. The chemo's left him weak." Crystal smiled politely. "Perhaps another time..."
"No." Rossi replied, his eyes angry though he kept himself composed. "Pardon me, Mrs. Richards, but your husband lied to me about something very serious 36 years ago, and it's about time he told me the truth."
"My husband is very unwell. You can't expect me to just let you start bombarding him with questions." Crystal combed her eyes over Rossi, seeing him differently upon hearing the demanding tone. "Now, if that's all..."
"Mrs. Richards." Rossi interrupted, not making any sign of leaving. "I believed for 36 years that my son was dead. A few weeks ago I found out he was alive. And the one who told me and my wife that our son James died was your husband. I respectfully suggest you show me to your husband, or I will get a warrant and..."
Crystal Richards glared at Rossi, meeting his stubbornness with her own. "I want you out of my..."
"Crissy, it's all right." Dr. Alan Richards entered the room, pushing an IV pole along. His thin body seemed to be wasting away, though he managed to reach the chair closest to the table. Each step he took shaky. "I want to talk to agent Rossi."
"But..." Crystal started, falling silent and leaving the room when Alan Richards shook his head. All the while tsk-tsking, her shoes clicked on the halls' hardwood floor.
"Hello, David Rossi. It's been a while." Alan Richards said, his voice much weaker and more raspy than Rossi remembered.
"You know why I'm here." Rossi glared at the much older, much weaker man. Despite the man's frailty, he felt like attacking him. This man, who he had trusted 36 years ago, had lied to him. And kept silent about the lie for 36 years. "James."
Alan took in a breath, and met Rossi's gaze. But only for a second. "...I knew this day would come. I imagined it happening every day for 36 years."
"So you did lie. About James, to Carolyn and me." Rossi glowered at Alan. "Why? Did you sympathize with Amy Wagner or was it for money?"
"Neither. I never even talked to the other boy's mother. No..." Alan coughed a little, bringing a tissue to his mouth. "I did it because I thought...Christ." The old doctor shook his head, remembering. His expression morphed into one of indignation rather than guilt. "There was another doctor. He told me that..." Alan coughed again, this time needing a glass of water to curtail it. Rossi got him it, so the man could continue. Alan thanked him. "I figured out it was balderdash too late, but...he said...he said you...were violent." Alan took another sip of water and cleared his throat. "Were violent towards children."
"What?!" Rossi fumed, cursing a bit in Italian. Of all the explanations he'd prepared himself to hear, this was unexpected. "Someone told you that I was a child abuser? That I..."
Rossi let out a slew of swears in Italian and English, while pacing and trying to get his head around what he'd just heard.
"That wasn't all." Alan took another sip of water, though it didn't seem to do much help. "He said you were also a..." He coughed again, this fit lasting a while.
"What?" Rossi glowered, questioning the older man despite realizing what else Alan had been falsely told. "What did he say I was?"
"That you touched childre..."
"I have NEVER and would NEVER, do such a thing!" Rossi yelled, his thoughts and emotions whirling. This was worse and more infuriating than any other reason he considered for Dr. Richards lying about James. "Why would you even believe such a thing? We met many times throughout Carolyn's pregnancy, and talked a lot. Yet you believed..."
"I'm sorry. I realized later that it was all lies. But four years had passed by then, I couldn't..." Alan froze under the scowl Rossi flashed him.
"You realized four years after you falsified my son's death that you made a mistake, and yet you didn't man up and tell me the truth?!" Rossi breathed to calm himself, wanting nothing more than to hull the man sitting before him to the nearest FBI field office's interrogation room. "Do you know what James went through? Hm? Your lie helped deliver my son to a real pedophile and helped keep him there. In that household, where he suffered not just sexual, but physical abuse bad enough to bring him to the hospital multiple times each month."
"God. I'm sorry." Alan Richards replied meekly. "I thought I was helping..."
"Helping? Yeah, you helped steal a boy from a loving family and gave him to a monster." Rossi said, his tone less loud and angry, but still accusatory. "You found out you were lied to when James was four? Guess what, Kevin Wagner didn't start molesting James until he was five. If you had told the truth, James could've been returned to me and Carolyn before that bastard hurt him."
Alan stared up at Rossi, eyes red with tears. "I'm sorry, sorry. I..."
"The doctor who told you those lies about me, what's his name?"
"Tobias Connell." Alan whispered, not purposely but rather because his voice refused to reach it's normal volume.
"Connell? Dr. Connell?" Rossi repeated, remembering that last name. The doctor James had beat in the hospital nearly two weeks ago had been named Connell. "The same one in Niagara Falls?"
Alan shook his head. "No. Tobias Connell died nearly fifteen years ago. Though he did have a nephew attending medical school."
Rossi took note of that info, the next moment starting towards the door.
"Agent Rossi, you said you found James. Is he all right?"
Rossi flinched, hearing that question from Dr. Richards. He swallowed and considered leaving without answering.
"Rossi?"
"...he's currently in prison, on multiple rape charges." Rossi said, his hand on the doorknob. His back was to Alan Richards and he heard the man about to apologize again. "...I'm one of the ones who had to arrest him. Right after I found out who he was."
Rossi left before he had to hear Alan Richards' response.
0
"It's back to the Room for you." The man with the large white coat spoke as he grabbed his arm. The large hand felt like a vise on his bony wrist.
"Leggo, leggo. I'll do it. I'll do it." He screamed back, desperately trying to escape the older man's grip. That Room, with the bath boxes, terrified him.
"I don't think you will." The man replied, his low pitched voice cold. He continued to drag the boy to the Room. The boy shivered, his small frame being easily picked up by the man in the white coat. "You need to learn, when you start something you must finish."
"Please. Please. Dr. Somerfield." He pleaded, futilely. The doctor forced him into the box with the water and shut the lid. He trembled in the dark, knowing that the monsters would come.-
James opened his eyes, flailing his arms and legs or at least trying to. His memory was fuzzy, but he recalled a fellow inmate approaching him with a shiv. That inmate had called James a 'fed's son', and vowed to gut him.
James had struck quicker than that inmate, using a rag soaked in cleanser that another inmate had got him to blind the one who attacked him. The man hollered in pain once the abrasive chemical touched him, and James managed to take the shiv.
He had then stabbed the man. Once in the diaphragm and once in his left eye. Seeing the blood and hearing the screams, James had been lulled into trying to cut out that inmate's eyes. He had 'heard' Dr. Somerfield's voice telling him to do so. Just as the older man had instructed him numerous times at the institute. Mostly on birds and rodents.
The guards had stopped James before he started on the inmate's right eye. Afterwards they had brought him to solitary confinement, not caring about his pleads or explanations.
"Calm down. Calm down." He heard someone say as he struggled against the binds anchoring him to the bed. It took a few seconds to realize he was in the infirmary, strapped to the bed.
James blinked and closed his eyes, recalling nothing that had happened after being placed in the dark, solitary confinement cell. His arms were sore though, as well as his face. Before he could figure out what injuries he had, he felt a pin prick on his skin and he sunk back into unconsciousness.
0
Garcia hurried down the hospital hall, trying to make it before the end of visiting hours. She had planned to visit Spencer hours ago, but BAU work had taken priority.
Reaching Spencer's hospital room, she opened the door and entered.
"Hello, I...ah...oh." Her greeting faltered as she noticed Alsie. Though it was more surprise at seeing a convalescing Spencer conversing animatedly with someone she hadn't met before. "Um. Hello?"
"Oh! Garcia, hi! Come in, come in." Spencer's face lit up seeing Garcia. He beckoned her with a youthful enthusiasm. "Um, this is Allison Schmidt, we met last month. Alsie, this is Penelope Garcia."
"Nice to meet you." Garcia held out her hand in greeting, pleasantly overwhelmed by the vibrancy in Spencer's face. It was similar to the excitement he showed when reciting a Halloween fact or showing off a magic trick.
"Likewise." Alsie replied, shaking Garcia's hand lightly and after a very brief hesitance. It was of such brevity that neither Garcia nor Spencer registered the pause. "So do you work for the Bureau as well?"
"Uh, yes. Well I'm not an agent. I'm a tech analyst for the BAU." Garcia smiled as she spoke, her curiosity and interest piqued. She looked from Spencer to Alsie then back to Spencer, trying to figure out if she'd interrupted a mere friendly chat. "I...oh! Those are cute shoes you're wearing." Garcia said as she noticed the black and pink sequin heels Alsie wore.
"Thank you. Yours are nice too. Well, your whole outfit is..." Alsie returned the compliment, eyeing the bright colors of Garcia's skirt and blouse. "Dazzling. A dose of sunshine."
Garcia's smile widened at the unexpected compliment. Her evaluation of this stranger growing more positive by the second. "Thank you. Well, I try to be as bright and peppy as I can..."