#lindsey vaughn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawbeerossi · 8 months

Text

Salt In Open Wounds

This is for @tobias-hankel’s pre-whumptober collection!

Bad Thing: Torture

Bad Person: Ex-Partner

Content/Warnings: Cursing, unnamed abusive ex. bounces between therapy appointment and past abduction, past trauma, mention of guns and knives, mentions of Tobias Hankel, physical abuse, torture, branding (with a cattle iron), hopelessness, general angst, PTSD, depression, murder, blood, psychological torture, mild gore.

Word Count: 5.5K

Find it on AO3 || Masterlist || Requests

I’m no better than the CM writers for this. Also I got a little carried away with writing this.

“Spencer, I’d like to talk about what you’ve been through, if that’s alright.” The woman across from Spencer spoke up. This was his sixth session since the incident, however it was like he could never fully open up. Traumatic events were capable of taking someone’s voice, in his case it was severe. He’d been digging his nails into his hands just discussing the outer details, not wanting to dive straight into the cesspool of darkness he’d been exposed to. He wanted to avoid it for as long as he could. It wouldn’t be that easy though, he had nothing else to use as a shield. He’d explained all the details surrounding his pain, now he had to talk about it.

“I know it’s going to be very hard.” Marianne, his therapist, spoke. “I just want you to know that we can take this as slow as you’d like. There will be future sessions.” She gently reminded me. The once bright and cheerful doctor had been chipped away over his fifteen year career with the BAU, his year of hell broke him further. “No, no.. I uh, I need to talk about it at some point.” Therapy was mandatory, so it wasn’t like he’d gotten any other choice but to sit there. “I just, I uh, I don’t know how to begin..”

“Why don’t you start with the first night?”

***

Spencer was excited, taking a much needed break from his job at the FBI to go on sabbatical.There was a lecture circuit for Criminal Justice related classes, he was excited to take over the course for Criminology. Marbury University had recommended him for the job due to his exceeding pass rate for his class. He didn’t have the confidence to tell them it was because of the fact he was an attractive older male and he captured attention from young women and men alike.

It was silly, really. As a younger man, he was more used to people looking at him like he was an alien. He was socially awkward, his demeanor being one like a skittish cat. The years passed and he gained confidence, little by little. With that confidence, he began to lose the innocence that he once had. Tobias Hankel chipped away at him, getting him addicted to dilaudid as well as subjecting him to torture. After him, Spencer’s life was never the same.

Prison was the boiling point. Even being there for a few months, it began to eat away at him. He’d watched a friend die who he worked so hard to protect, he’d been subjected to beatings, as well as stabbing himself with a shiv to get himself locked into solitary confinement due to the fact the inmates knew of his status of a federal agent. The day JJ told him he was going home, he was relieved.

Until he had to deal with Cat Adams yet again, the woman using Lindsey Vaughn to abduct his mother, which sent them on a wild goose chase. It ended with Diana safe and sound, yet he never thought that he could experience that much anger and hatred. He’d planned on choking Cat to death in the interrogation room. Thank God for JJ, the one who managed to bring him out of his intense fit of rage.

He was trying to fix his life again, bring back the past version of himself that he yearned to be. A young man in the world who had so much promise, so much dedication. Now he was older, he was aware that he had so much to lose.

It was Friday morning when he left the office after giving Emily his paperwork for sabbatical, requesting a year of leave to pour himself into his passion of teaching the future of the bureau as well as law enforcement as a whole. The drive was gonna be an hour, so he felt like he’d been prepared enough, not being someone who was particularly fond of driving.

The convention center reminded him of the places that he and Penelope would go to for their numerous conventions. Just the memories made him smile, enjoying the parts of his past that he loved to relive in his mind. Eidetic memory was a blessing and a curse, that was the bottom line of it all. Grabbing his suitcases from the trunk of his car, he was heading into the hotel where he’d be staying for the time being. The circuit was only for a few weeks, however he was preparing to go back to Marbury for the rest of his time off.

Spencer had checked into his room, going up the stairs to the second floor to get settled in. “Excuse me,” A familiar voice was causing Spencer’s attention to turn towards the sound. “Wait what are you-” There was no way he could’ve predicted the way he was feeling something heavy hitting the back of his head, his body crashing onto the ground.

***

“Do you know how they brought you back to where you ended up?” Marianne asked, keeping a calm demeanor even though Spencer had been digging his nails into his palm, eyes squeezed shut from the fear of the vivid memories coming back to haunt him, almost smelling the hotel hallway. “I, uh, no. I can’t remember. I woke up there, I uh, I remembered the pain in my head. It was a headache that felt like it gave me a brain hemorrhage. Obviously it didn’t.” He spoke softly, eyes now opening as his gaze was fixed down at his lap.

“There’s no logical way that she got me out by herself, it makes no sense. I just can’t figure out who was there to help her and I don’t know why anyone would help her.” Unbeknownst to Spencer, his hands were tangling in his tousled curls as he roughly pulled at the roots from frustration. Pain was a way he could kickstart his hell, knowing that the familiarity of his wincing would bring back something. It had to. The sounds of Marianne trying to snap Spencer out of his actions had fallen on deaf ears, tears now streaming down Spencer’s face as he was fully throwing himself back into a world he so desperately wanted to get away from.

***

He placed himself back in the dank basement, the smell of mildew and mold assaulting Spencer’s nose. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face and back, the panic setting in from the coarse and rough rope cutting into the flesh of his wrists, daring to cut his skin from his thrashing.

Due to being abducted before by the likes of Tobias Hankel, he knew to examine his surroundings, that was how he got himself out the first time, how he saved himself and began to slip away into a never ending pit of trauma and despair. The dim light in the room revealed a cement floor, droplets of a crimson substance covering the floor. Blood. There was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He shouldn’t have been here, he should’ve been getting ready for his lecture delving into the psychology of serial killers. Instead, he was locked away in a kill room, a place where he could be reduced to nothing but a pile of flesh and bone.

His ears were ringing, the head injury from before causing a migraine that made him want to slam his head onto the cement floor, to put an end to the splitting headache. It was good he was tied up, the idea of ending this suffering so early on and robbing whoever this person was of their chance to kill him was so satisfying. Eidetic memory didn’t serve him any purpose here though, each time he tried to remember the face of the woman in the hallway, he was left with a blurry outline. This was all too reminiscent of when he was arrested in Mexico. Maybe he was drugged again? That would explain how he couldn’t bring himself to remember his captor. The trauma response of the brain would surely be shutting things out, as if it were any help shielding him of the pure hell he was going to face.

His thoughts stopped entirely when he heard the heavy sound of the metal door being pushed open, his head snapping over immediately. With double vision from the concussion, he felt even more hopeless. “W-why am I here?” He asked slowly, blinking his eyes slowly to try and focus them on the face of the person in front of him. The pain of a sharp slap to his face had his head flying to the side, a groan of pain falling from his lips.

“You’re here because this is the place you need to be.” The voice was soft, almost sickeningly sweet. It was also very familiar. The woman from the hallway, the woman who haunted his thoughts from her unknown, blurred face. There was a burn in Spencer’s throat. He felt ill.

Her.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked immediately after, the woman sighing as she brought a hand to gently stroke his cheek. It was a complete 180. “You’re here because we never got to talk about our relationship, honey. You decided that you were better off alone, I’m showing you that you’re safer here with me.” She offered a smile. “You will not leave me this time, Spencer. We can be happy!”

Despite his survival instincts telling him to play along, he couldn’t. “W-we broke up for a reason.” There was a waiver to his voice, fear. “Right. Then I got arrested for domestic abuse. I just think you’re dramatic.” She stated in a simple tone, her hand dropping from his cheek. Obsessive Love Disorder was a dangerous thing, something that if left untreated, would cause nothing but pain.

“I mean, what kind of man lets his girlfriend hit him without fighting back? A weak man. It’s sad. Don’t worry though, we are gonna have a lot of fun!” She mused while moving to brush her hair back from her face. Her nonchalant behavior was chilling, how heartless she could be.

Spencer was young when they’d initially gotten together, that being his first serious relationship. Things started normal, they got along and went on dates. She essentially love bombed him from the beginning, he was just too naive to notice what was going on. It was a year of joy and peace, the two enjoying each other's presence enough to the point where Spencer felt prepared to take the next step. He moved in with her.

That was when the hell started. The psychological torment, the physical abuse, and emotional manipulation was that of a cinder block tied to his ankles, ready to be thrown overboard and left without a trace. The weight of the relationship almost killed him. She would put loaded guns to his head, sadistically laughing and taunting him by acting as if she would really shoot him. There were some nights where he wished that she did. It would be his only shot at peace.

When he left the first time, he got extremely lucky. He got to use the excuse that the BAU needed him after he’d spent so much time planning for his escape. He elicited in JJ’s help, his best friend at work who he’d broken down to on a particularly stressful case. He thought that getting arrested would set her straight, get her checked out by a psychologist or something and calmed down with proper medication.

Naivety. He knew that someone couldn’t be helped unless they wanted it.

That was abundantly clear now that he was in this predicament.

All he could think of was that he’d never go home, nor would he ever be able to see his mom, JJ, Emily, or any of his beloved team again. It brought tears to his eyes, thinking that nobody knew where he was. He was supposed to be in a classroom with promising students that would change the world. What if they didn’t even notice that he was gone? By the time his year's sabbatical was over, it would be far too late. He’d be a rotting corpse buried in a random backyard.

“You’re crying.. Oh, sweetheart..” The sudden movement of her body inching closer caused the man to flinch, eyes widening as he leaned back against the chair he was bound to. “You really don’t trust me?” She had the audacity to sound hurt, as if she didn’t have him tied to a chair. “This is ridiculous, Spencer. You are just as weak as I could remember. I thought being in your forties, you would be stronger.” She sighed while her hand was roughly grabbing his hair to pull it back, the male being forced to meet her gaze.

“We are going to fix that. I’m going to train you into being better.” She spat as a frown spread across her face. Spencer knew his body was tense, his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. “Since you don’t listen..” She began, a sad sigh falling from her lips. “I need to go through our first lesson.” She stated as she walked away. For a moment, Spencer could feel a blind hope that things would be okay. That her punishment would just be her leaving.

Spencer could only hear the rapid beat of his heart, the blood in his veins running cold. There was no way out. When she came back over, he inspected the object in her hand. The shiny metal of the scissors had his body shuddering in fear, eyes trained on her every movement. He made an effort to try and weasel away from her touch, however the rough hold on his shirt was keeping him in place. Was she going to plunge the tool deep into his chest cavity? She could stab him in the heart with enough force or a lung even. She caught him by surprise.

The blade ran over the shirt covering the male’s lanky torso before she offered a smile. “Relax. I’m not gonna stab you with scissors, that would be too easy.” She giggled, as if the idea was humorous. Instead of stabbing him, she was using the utensil to cut off the sweater from his torso, her idea of taking away his dignity seemed to be undressing him. Of course, she wanted him to be uncomfortable, embarrassed. It was the only way to break him and force him into submission. She would feed off of fear and he felt like he sustained her enough.

Like an eagle stalking its next prey, Spencer kept his eyes on her, watching every movement she made while mentally preparing himself for the worst. When she’d reached on a nearby table and picked up what looked to be a taser, it was enough for Spencer to let his eyes fall shut tightly. She was planning on torturing him by shocking him, that had to be it.

The crackle of electricity coming from the device had her smiling, holding it up to proudly display it. “First rule, you need to learn how to take everything the world will give you. Let’s see if that old man's heart can handle a few shocks, hmm?” It looked like a law enforcement level weapon, one that had stronger shockwaves than the typical ones that could be purchased in a store. Before Spencer could try to plead, he was feeling the watts of electricity surge through his veins, the violence of it causing his body to thrash. With his eyes rolled to the back of his head, he tried thinking of his mom. How happy she’d be when he got home, how excited she’d be to tell him about how her life was going.

His body was convulsing as the taser was pulled away from his neck, the male breathing hard as he was doing his damndest to keep himself together. A deep groan emerged from his throat as he slowly lifted his tired head, glossed over eyes facing the woman who was planning on making him miserable. “I’m.. Really shocked that you went through that without passing out. I mean, I had it pressed there for three minutes. The pain typically would elicit more reaction. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from other friends down here..” She was letting her head tilt to the side, reminiscent of a puppy who had so much curiosity. “Let’s see if you can last longer! This will be great research!”

The lesson went on for an hour, off and on subjecting the male to enough electricity to make his heart burst in his chest. By the grace of God and fighting for his life, he made it. The devil reincarnate was satisfied, feeding off the pure agony displayed in Spencer’s pupils. He could hide fear but he couldn’t hide excruciating pain. The way his eyes were tightly squeezed shut, he was shaking slightly in his spot. There was amusement in her eyes, a grin on her face as she was bringing her hands to his cheeks.

In his weak state, he didn’t flinch.

“So that’s where the scars come from. Oh, Spencer..” Marianne was frowning while looking at the male, the man looking visibly distressed by having to tap into those memories that he so desperately tried to forget. The pain and torture he’d went through was enough to break even the strongest of people.

“That’s where those scars come from, right. She repeatedly used the taser against my neck and chest.” His voice was shaky as he was giving an explanation, the purple scarf draped around his neck slowly being removed to show off the marks the prongs left behind.

“There was more. She burned my skin with the taser but she had something else. She called it a toy, something she had joy in using on me. She claimed.. She claimed it marked me as hers.” He explained, fingers slowly messing with a loose thread on his cardigan.

“Would you like to discuss it or should we hold off until another session?” The woman asked, a sympathetic look etched on her face as she studied Spencer’s mannerisms. “Because I don’t expect to know about it today if you aren’t ready. You’ve opened up a lot today.”

“No, I can, uh, explain it to you. I just.. I’m a little nervous to relive it.”

Anyone would be.

Spencer was sitting in the chair, his back in an unbelievable amount of pain for sitting upright for six days now. The lessons that they had in that basement consisted of a taser being pushed roughly into flesh, Spencer’s body weak and exhausted after what felt like hours of being shocked. His body could only take so much more before he was rendered fully weak, unable to help himself. His eyelids were heavy, so tired yet he couldn’t sleep.

The sleep deprivation had been settling in, sanity slowly beginning to disappear while the male fought the urge to sleep. He had to be awake, aware. However in his delirious state, he was going down the path of madness.

“Gideon, I just wanna get out of here but I’m slowly losing faith.” The genius’ voice slurred, looking over at the man who was standing in front of him. The man who he knew was dead, yet.. Here he was, right in front of him. “You’re going to get out of here, Reid. Just put yourself in her shoes. What is she gaining?”

The words had the male slowly letting his head lull to the side, heavy eyes slowly closing. “She wants to break me psychologically. To make me a slave.” He responded to the ghost of his mentor. “Right. Do not let her break you. Fight. Your team will be here. Garcia has always known where to find people. Between you and I, I’m pretty sure she has a tracker inside everyone on earth.” The words made Spencer laugh tiredly, keeping his eyes shut. “She probably does.. I could see it.” He spoke softly, shifting in his chair.

The lighter ceased as soon as he could hear the heavy door being shoved open, the metal door hitting the wall was enough to make his head shoot up. Jason was gone, yet she was here.

“You’re awake! That’s so good. We have spent so much time together that I’ve been thinking of something special to give you.” She offered a wide smile as she was going to the wall behind him, a furnace being there this whole time that he just couldn’t see. “I got this whenever I had the farm. Do you remember that?” The words made his heart nearly stop as she stepped in front of him while holding the object to show off. A cattle iron. “I figured that I’d show you my most prized toy. Not many people have ever seen it!” She offered a wide smile.

“Since we have been having so much fun together, I want to give you something to definitely remember. You’ll never forget.” She cooed, finger tapping his nose while she hummed in satisfaction. The fear in his eyes thoroughly satisfied her. “Alright. Let’s get this heated up, shall we?” As it was placed in the flame across the room though, the male was quiet while trying to keep himself calm and collected. The tears running down his face didn’t quite get the memo.

“Don’t look so scared. I promise that it’s not that big, it’s just got my name and a nice little heart. It’ll be like a tattoo!” He offered a wide smile while taking the metal out of the fire while approaching the shirtless mail. “W-wait! Let’s talk about this! You don’t need to do this!” The burn would be severe enough to never heal, to haunt him forever.

His body was shaking the minute she spared no mercy, the burning metal being pushed into his skin with force. It was enough to make Spencer scream in pain, the sickening sound of his skin sizzling and the putrid smell of burning flesh and hair filling the small room. His hands were shaking, the rope now cutting deep into the skin to draw blood as he tried to thrash in place to make it stop.

The movements made the chair give way, the man falling back and his head roughly slamming into the cement floor. The pain was enough to make it feel like his brain had fallen from his head, the brain matter decorating the floor and this being his last few minutes. It wasn’t physically possible and he knew that.

His head was bleeding, the blood pooling on the floor behind his head. Thankfully not a cracked skull. She’d pulled him to sit up in the chair once more before she was using her first aid knowledge to stop the bleeding and patch him up.

“You definitely have a concussion.” She scolded, noticing his blown out pupils and his general dizziness.

“She burned you?”

“She branded me.”

The words came out slowly as Spencer’s shaking hands were slowly pulling up the top he had on while showing off the scarred skin that was scabbed over, the man having a horrible habit of picking at it. Even if it was a year old, he felt like it was fresh. He could remember the way his skin bubbled, the way he could feel the indention singe into his chest.The woman’s eyes were wide, seeing the damage done. In addition to the branded flesh, there were numerous puncture-like wounds. She assumed it came from more ‘toys’ that this sick bitch collected.

“Do you feel comfortable talking about after?” Her words were soft, ignoring the clock on the wall signaling their session was over and she could go home for the day. She’d never had Spencer open up like this in this capacity. He explained in such graphic and gory detail that she could understand the dark descent of madness that he felt himself slipping into. The depression of knowing that there was always someone just like her out there. Some other helpless victim being trapped and not being lucky enough to get help like he did.

“Everything was pretty much a repeat after that night, honestly Up until I made her think that she broke me completely.”

It had been nearly a year, Spencer being subjected to being damn near electrocuted on a daily basis, the sharp blade of a steak knife puncturing his skin in non-fatal areas, even the times where she would hold a gun to his head, making him promise that he was hers. That he wasn’t leaving her again.

Spencer felt no pain anymore. His body was numb, even the deep cuts puncturing his flesh feeling like the average bee-sting from him having it done so much. He had no tears left to cry, his emotions disappearing about a month after his captivation. He was brutally beaten, stabbed, scratched, even burned with lighters to a point where he couldn’t feel.

The wounds would heal over then be reopened for more sadistic pleasure of rubbing things like salt, dirt, lemon juice, among other things.

Infection hadn’t killed him yet, so he took it as some sign of faith that he wasn’t meant to die here.

“You know, kid. I’m really worried about you.” Derek was talking to him today, the male looking up at the ceiling while sucking in a breath. “I know. I’m starting to worry about myself too.. What if the team isn't looking for me? They surely expect me to be completely radio silent to work on my life outside of the team.” His throat was sore, surely from the nights where he’d just scream, scream to get every ounce of pain and hurt built up over the year out.

“They are looking. You think Garcia would ever give up on you? Come on, kid.” The scolding made Spencer offer a small smile. “You’re right. I mean, P-Penelope would never give up on me.”

Spencer had faced death about a million times before, however this was different. After a year of conditioning and brutality, he never felt so close to death. It seemed inviting, the thought of just.. Maybe drifting off and ending all the suffering there.

“Kid. I know you are weak but don’t you die on me. On us. What will Hank do without his favorite uncle? Or what about Henry and Michael? Do you really want to make them face losing you? Or your mama, man. Think about her!” Not-Derek was probably the last piece of rationality that Spencer had left.

“Look. It’s self defense if you kill her now. Think about it, you have proof she subjected you to pain and suffering. Why not get her back? You haven’t slept in weeks, man. Weeks.” The sleep came in small doses, mainly because he had no idea what would happen when he was asleep, unconscious to the vile nature of what she did to him. Best to be awake when a knife is shoved so deep in his shoulder, it hits the bone.

“W-what?” Was he telling himself to kill her? No, no. Spencer couldn’t do that! He was a good man, just troubled. However the more he thought about it, the more the festering rage built inside of him. Why should he die here?

That was when the plan was in motion. The next time she came down was a full day later, having water and food along with the knife that she loved to use all too much on the helpless man. “Have you actually gotten sleep?! Spence!” The woman smiled widely while clasping her hands together, eventually grabbing the glass to let him sip from the straw. Spencer was weak, his head slowly bobbing as he looked up at her through his tired eyes. Even with the exhaustion, he knew that he was going to get out of there. Alive or dead, he’d leave that god damn basement. He’d contemplated all his options. If he was weak enough, she’d untie him to accompany him to the bathroom. “Can I uh, go pee?” He asked, voice still hoarse and low.

Seemingly, his plan was working because she was grabbing the knife. “I trust you, Spence, so I’ll let you up.” She mused while offering a smile. “Do you think that you will be good enough to be let up permanently? You’re honestly such a good boy now, I have to grant you some sort of luxury.”

Yeah. Fucking luxury. So much luxury that he would be able to feel her blood seep into his bruised and battered skin, akin to a hand moisturizer. She made him like this. She created the monster inside of him that was bursting from its confinements. Prison hurt him in ways indescribable but this experience completely ripped out any form of compassion or empathy. There was rage, the burning inside of his chest from the overwhelming emotion.

The minute the ropes were cut, Spencer examined his wrists briefly, waiting for her to cut the ropes on his ankles. The rope burn was deep, dried blood from his violent thrashing decorating the tan restraint and leaving deep marks on his flesh.

The freedom to move felt so fucking good. However his legs were dreadfully asleep. He didn’t realize that until he tried to stand to ambush his captor, only falling directly on top of her while letting out a yelp. The blade had gone deep into his side from the fall, however the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it tolerable. Rolling off of her body, he was taking in a deep breath before the blade was being torn from his side by his right hand, rolling on top of the stunned woman.

There was darkness in his eyes, an unfathomable amount of rage that made him look no better than the likes of George Foyet. “Lesson one, don’t trust people.” His words were low, his pupils being blown out as he brought the blade down to slam into her chest. The sounds of agonizing screams filling the room brought a twisted smile to his face. “What? You’re too weak to handle it?! It’s okay! We will fix that!” The past year of pain and suffering was being unleashed back onto the woman who came far too close to killing him. The knife plunged deep into her chest cavity a whopping total of sixty times. There was crimson red all over his hands, face and chest along with the pool on the floor. He’d stabbed her lungs first, making her last few moments agonizing as she drowned in her own blood from the inside. The cries and gurgles had Spencer laughing with glee, continuing to mumble the same twisted phrases he’d heard after being shocked, burned, stabbed, and threatened with a firearm.

By the time the team had actually gotten there, he’d continued stabbing the lifeless corpse while muttering and laughing. Emily couldn’t even go near him from the fear he’d turn on her. With Luke and Matt pulling him off of her, the male was spitting up blood, the wound from earlier worsening the more the adrenaline wore off. “We need a medic!” Luke was the one yelling, him and Matt carrying Spencer out.

The final pieces of the story had Marianne in shock. She’d heard bits and pieces but seeing Spencer smile while retelling the end of his journey, it was chilling. This wasn’t the sweet man who had entered the room two hours ago. This was a man who lived in perpetual darkness. A man who let a monster consume him in that basement.

“Is that all? Do I need to tell you more details?” The male asked, sitting up straighter.This part he had no problem discussing, making the woman slowly reach under her desk to hit a button. That was when the doors were opening and one of the nurses were coming in. “Alright Dr. Reid, let’s take you back to your room!” She said in a cheery voice, hand gently grabbing his arm to urge him to stand. He didn’t fight back. “I’ll be seeing you next week, Marianne. Maybe we can talk about Cat there too. Wouldn’t you like to know the last victim?”

“Dr. Reid.” The nurse scolded while leading him out.

“It’s obvious that Mr. Reid is not well, a year full of torture has left him mentally unstable to the point he is lashing out on everyone he sees. We can’t have this behavior continue. I’m sending him to the Western State Psychiatric Hospital indefinitely.” The judge’s decision had the BAU team gasping from their seats, Penelope’s eyes welling up with tears at the thought of the team losing their best agents and closest friends.

Spencer however had no feelings, instead stone faced as he stared at the woman giving her verdict.

They’d lost him a long time ago. So long that he had no desire to look back at his team. If they loved him, they would have found him sooner, they would have fought harder to find him.

He was alone.

He’d always be alone.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid whump #spencer reid scenario

59 notes · View notes

houseofwisteria · 4 months

Text

QUICK LINKS,

Rules | PSD/Template | Muse List | Animated Sideblog

AFFILIATES,

@soughtbirthright

@clairelilcorner

@rebelliousfamily

@qveens / @vntagetee

@entangledmuses

@lcstinfantasy

@ner0tic

@rcckstars

Muse list

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Gabrielle Cameron - Kook, 15-20 FC Angourie Rice

Celeste Winters - Witch, 22 FC: Kaylee Bryant

Hope Donavan - Street racer, 28 FC: Lindsey Morgan

Sylvie Nightbloom - Seer, 15+ FC Maisie Williams

Aspen Lightfoot - Elven princess, 21+ FC: Ruby Cruz

Elizabeth Murphy - Teacher, 20+ FC: Dakota Johnson

Alicia Piao - Psychology Student, 20+ FC: Natasha Liu Bordizzo

Tiabeanie Florence - Princess,15 FC: Georgie Henley

Allison Roe-Scott - Fashion designer, 18+ FC: Leighton Meester

Grace Scott - Student, 18 FC: Sara Waisglass

Alwyn Oakdweller - Half-elf, 25+ FC: Henry Cavill

Dante Moore - Vampire, Forever 18 FC: Quincy Fouse

Astrid Green - Bar / Lounge Owner, 20+ FC: Zoey Deutch

Jacklyn “ Jack ” Esparza - Student, Soccer player, 18 FC: Ruby Cruz

Umi Okoye - Student, animator, 18 FC: Ayo Edebiri

Sergio Garza - Cps worker, 30+ FC: Oscar Isaac

Leslie Bishop - bodyguard, driver, 30+ FC: Jesse Williams

Aubree Fraser - Nurse Practitioner, 20+ FC: Jessica Henwick

Peyton Wong - Photographer, 19+ FC: Chase Sui Wonders

Greta Cohen - Event Planner, 18+ FC: Emilija Baranac

Ryker Cameron - Kook, 20+ FC: Ryan Gosling

Jaden Reeves - Werewolf, 20+ FC: Josh Hutcherson

REACHER

Jack Reacher (30) - FC: Alan Ritchson

Roscoe Conklin (28) - FC: Willa Fitzgerald

Oscar Finley (33) - FC: Malcolm Goodwin

Francis Neagley (28) FC: Maria Sten

NEW GIRL

Nick Miller (30) - FC: Jake Johnson

Winston Bishop ( 30 ) - FC: Lamorne Morris

EUPHORIA

Fezco (19+) - FC: Diego Tinoco

Jules Vaughn (18+) - FC: Hunter Schafer

Cassie Howard (18+) - FC: Sydney Sweeney

Nate Jacobs (18+) - FC: Jacob Elordi

Kat Hernandez (18+) - FC: Barbie Ferreira

THE WALKING DEAD

Rick Grimes (30+) - FC: Andrew Lincoln

Carl Grimes (18+) - FC: Tanner Buchannon

Glenn Rhee (20+) - FC: Steven Yeun

Rosita Espanoza (20+) - FC: Christian Serratos

Beth Greene ( 20 + ) - Emily Kinney

Carol Peletier ( 40+ ) - Melissa McBride

THE WITCHER

Geralt of Rivia (30+) - FC: Henry Cavill

Jaskier (30+) - FC: Joey Batey

Tissaia (35+) - FC: MyAnna Buring

Cirilla of Cintra (14+) - FC: Freya Allen

THE SOCIETY

Becca Gelb (18+) - FC: Gideon Adion

Harry Bingham (18+) - FC: Alex Fitzalan

Cassandra Pressman (18+) - FC: Rachel Keller

Kelly Aldrich (18+) - FC: Krstene Froseth

Gareth Visser (18+) - FC: Jack Mulhern

Gordie Moreno (18+) - FC: Jose Julian

GIRL MEETS WORLD

Lucas Friar (14+) - FC: Peyton Meyer

Maya Hart (14+) - FC: Sabrina Carpenter

Topanga Mattews (30+) - FC: Rachel McAdams

Augie Matthews (14+) - FC: August Maturo

Isadora Smackle (14+) - FC: Cici Balagot

Farkle Minkus (14+) - FC: Corey Fogelmanis

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson (18+) - FC: Joseph Quinn

Jane Hopper (14+) - FC: Millie Bobby Brown

Jim Hopper (18+) - FC: David Harbour

Nancy Wheeler (18+) - FC: Natalia Dyer

Max Mayfield (14+) - FC: Sadie Sink

Robin Buckley (18+) - FC: Maya Hawke

Carol Perkins (18+) - FC: Chelsea Talmadge

Will Byers (14+) - FC: Jack Dylan Grazer

Tommy Hagen (18) - FC: Chester Rushing

Steve Harrington (18) - FC: Joe Keery

TEEN WOLF

Derek Hale (30+) - FC: Tyler Hoechlin

Stiles Stilinski (30+) - FC: Dylan O’brien

Liam Dunbar (30+) - FC: Dylan Sprayberry

Kira Yukimara (30+) - FC: Arden Cho

Jackson Whittemore (30+) - FC: Colton Haynes

Mason Hewitt (30+) - FC: Khylin Rhambo

ONE TREE HILL

Nathan Scott (18+) - FC: James Lafferty

Karen Roe (30+) - FC: Moira Kelly

Kieth Scott (30+) - FC: Craig Sheffer

Peyton Sawyer (18+) - FC: Hilarie Burton

HARRY POTTER

Luna Lovegood (18+) - FC: Evanna Lynch

Neville Longbottom (18+) - FC: Matthew Lewis

OUTER BANKS

Rafe Cameron (19+) - FC: Drew Starkey

Kiara Carrera (18+) - FC: Madison Bailey

JJ Maybank (18+) - FC: Rudy Pankow

John B Rutledge (18+) - FC: Chase Stokes

Ward Cameron (30+) - FC: Charles Esten

Wheezie Cameron (15) - FC: Julia Antonelli

Topper Thornton (19+) - FC: Austin North

ANIMATED TV & MOVIES

Catra (18+) - FC: Lulu Antariksa

Ballister Boldheart (30+) - FC: Riz Ahmed

Vi (20+) - FC: Brianna Hildebrand

HEARTSTOPPER

Nick Nelson

Charlie Spring

DISNEY MOVIES & TV

Evie Grimhilde (18+) - FC: Sofia Carson

Merida Dunbroch (18+) - FC: Amy Manson

Ben Florian (18+) - FC: Mitchell Hope

Queen Elsa (18+) - FC: Anya Taylor Joy

Kristoff Bjorgman (18+) - FC: Lucas Till

Olaf (10) - FC: Asa Butterfield

Fawn (18+) - FC: Maia Mitchell

Flynn Rider (19+) - FC: Ben Barnes

Amity Blight (15+) - FC: Kiernan Shipka

Jack Frost (19+) - FC: Thomas Brodie-Sangster

Astrid Hofferson (19+) - FC: Britt Robertson

Miguel Rivera (10+) - FC: As Himself

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES

Damon Salvatore (18+) - FC: Ian Somerhalder

Klaus Mikaelson (25+) - FC: Joseph Morgan

Bonnie Bennett (18+) - FC: Kat Graham

Vincent Griffith (30+) - FC: Yusuf Gatewood

Freya Mikaelson (25+) - FC: Riley Voelkel

LIFE IS STRANGE

Dana Ward (18+) - FC: Lily Collins

Alex Chen (18+) - FC: Brianne Tju

Chloe Price (18+) - FC: Emma Mackey

Warren Graham (18+) - FC: Austin Abrams

Stella Hill (18+) - FC: Maitreya Ramakrishnan

Luke Parker (18+) - FC: Ross Butler

Kate Marsh (18+) - FC: Grace Van Dien

SCREAM MOVIES & TV

Billy Loomis (18+) - FC: Skeet Ulrich

Mindy Meeks-Martin (18+) - FC: Jasmin Savoy Brown

Chad Meeks-Martin (18+) - FC: Mason Gooding

Noah Foster (18+) - FC: John Karna

Dewy Riley (23+) - FC: Dave Arquette

Tatum Riley (18+) - FC: Rose Mcgowan / Christina Hendricks

Wes Hicks (18+) - FC: Dylan Minnette

THE LAST OF US

Joel Miller

Ellie Williams

Dina

RED DEAD REDEMPTION

Arthur Morgan

Abigail Marston

TWILIGHT

Edward Cullen

Charlie Swan

Jasper Hale

MISCELLANEOUS ANIME

Saitama

Sakura Haruno

Naruto Uzumaki

Haruhi Fujioka

Tamaki Suoh

Arisa Uotani

Taiga Aisaka

Yui Hirasawa

FNAF

Vanessa Afton

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Winchester

Claire Novak

Meg Masters

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Frank Castle

Peter Parker

Tony Stark

Jessica Jones

DC CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Selina Kyle

Harley Quinn

Barbara Gordon

Dick Grayson

DUMPLIN’

Ellen “ El “ Dryver (18+) - FC: Odeya Rush

Bo Larson (19+) - FC: Luke Benward

#( dossier. )

14 notes · View notes

lightandheatao3 · 4 months

Text

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 2: The Inevitable

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer knows what's about to happen. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean he's prepared to deal with it

Read chapter 2 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

Chapter 1 link

There was no sunlight. No clocks on the wall. They had been stripped of their watches and phones. They had no way of being certain how long they’d been trapped.

Spencer had a pretty good idea, though. Cool air flowed in from the small vent in the roof but sweat beaded on his brow.

They were all sat leaned against various sections of wall. The room was big enough that they had to raise their voices slightly to ensure they were heard from the opposite wall.

“Are you doing alright, Spence?” asked JJ, then rolled her eyes at herself for the asinine question, given their current situation. “I mean, relatively speaking, obviously. You look a little pale.”

“Just exhausted,” he said.

Please please please someone break the door down and let them out.

They had spent a long time analyzing the note and had come to the conclusion that whoever wrote and delivered the note was a woman. The hand size, the passive language, the fixation on teaching them a lesson. The apparent belief that she was helping them, justifying her cruelty with compassion. All of it added up to a female Unsub.

They had debated heavily if she might have an accomplice. It would have taken a significant degree of physical strength to subdue them all. Even intravenous drugs don’t knock someone out instantaneously. In addition, the site of injection was incredibly precise and nearly identical on each of them. This would only be possible by holding them very still, likely with a headlock from behind.

An accomplice certainly seemed possible, but at this stage they had no hard evidence to support it.

Everyone looked to Spencer to compile a mental list of all female Unsubs they dealt with while the team was in this particular configuration. Nobody quite fit the profile.

Antonia Slade was intelligent enough and had a history of taking her victims in to care for them before she killed them, but she wouldn’t hide behind a door. She would gloat. He wouldn’t put it past Lindsey Vaughn. She was resourceful. It’s not her MO, but she’d been known to be adaptable when a good opportunity to fuck with them presented itself. But that didn’t explain why she’d gone after them but not Luke and Tara, who she’d also dealt with.

Spencer pointed out to the team he kept tabs on Vaughn in prison, given everything that happened in Mexico. She could theoretically operate via proxy, but he was pretty confident she wasn’t their Unsub.

Truthfully, there were no good candidates. Whoever was doing this was going to need to give them something more to go off if they wanted a chance of piecing it together.

The fluorescent lights buzzed.

Once again he was living under the looming threat of violence and death but all he could think about was how terrified he was to be seen by the people he loved.

There were too many people in too small a space. He had his arms crossed tightly over his midriff to hide the fact his hands were shaking.

Everyone agreed there was no merit to speculating on what secrets she was referencing. For all they knew that was her plan. Get them to reveal information she could use against them, or get them fighting amongst themselves.

There was an invisible ticking clock. Spencer could hear it like it was real. Each second that ticked by was one closer to the moment where his most pressing secret revealed itself anyway thanks to his uncooperative body.

Nobody had spoken for a long time when Rossi piped up, “When do you think dinner is?”

They all stared at him. Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Feeling peckish?”

“If she wants to keep us imprisoned for the duration, surely she plans to feed us.” He looked up at the camera on the roof and raised his voice. “If you’re taking orders, I would love osso buco and a glass of the ’95 Chateaux Latour!”

JJ laughed. “Could you throw in a carbonara for me?”

“And a carbonara!” he demanded from the camera. “Real egg, none of that cream shit.” He looked around the room. “Any other orders? I hear the food here is excellent.”

“Ribeye on the bone, medium rare, a side of fries with a Bearnaise sauce,” said Derek, closing his eyes and giving a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” said JJ.

“Yeah, I’ll have what he’s having,” said Emily. “Throw in a pinot for me.”

“What vintage?” asked Rossi.

“Whatever one tastes best chugged straight from the bottle.”

Spencer smiled at them. Truthfully the thought of food was making his stomach turn violently, but he played anyway. “I’ll take a cheeseburger from Bernard's Burgers,” he said simply.

The others hummed in approval. They all cast their eyes to Hotch. He hesitated. Eventually, he said, “There’s a seafood restaurant a couple of blocks from where I live that has the best lobster you’ll ever try. You wouldn’t expect it from a landlocked state, but there’s nothing like it.”

Everyone nodded, satisfied with their imaginary feast.

“Not to keep bugging you, kid, but are you sure you’re alright?” asked Derek. “You’re not looking so hot.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been kind of off the last couple of days. I might be coming down with something. Sorry if you all catch it,” he said with his best impression of sincerity.

Derek made an ‘oof’ noise. “How’s that for timing?” he asked lightheartedly, though his eyes lingered longer than was entirely comfortable.

After another moment Rossi spoke again. “How long do you think we’ve been in here?”

“14 hours since we woke up,” said Spencer without missing a beat.

They all stared at him. “How the hell do you do that?” said Rossi, impressed.

He shrugged. Truthfully, he didn’t have the best internal clock. It was very easy for him to get lost in thought and lose track of time. The piercing headache and rising nausea were making him acutely aware of every passing minute.

That was how it went with this sort of thing. You had to develop a routine, especially if you wanted to function. He knew exactly how long he could go before he started getting sick. He scheduled his entire life around it.

The Unsub had clearly figured out their routines. Even if she hadn’t, the evidence of Spencer’s habits were strew across the bedside table in the room he was taken from.

He dug his nails into his arms through his sleeves. Time was running out. It was all getting away from him.

As if the Unsub had been reading his mind, the chamber on the door opened.

Derek was faster this time, managing to get his face right up to the chamber while the external hatch was still wide open.

“Talk to us!” he yelled. “We know you’re trying to teach us a lesson,” he said, an empathetic lilt pasted onto his voice. “We just want to know more. We want you to help us understand.”

A gloved hand deposited an unmarked brown paper shopping bag. The external hatch closed. The internal one released. Derek bowed his head as their captor left with no response. “She must be positioning herself to the side of the door. I still couldn’t see anything more than a hand. She’s careful, but we knew that already.”

Derek took the bag out and they all crowded around it cautiously.

It was packed full of fruit. Emily picked up an apple, turning it over in her hand.

With all eyes focused on her, she carefully took a bite.

She chewed, then swallowed.

“It tastes normal,” she assured them. “Give it half an hour to an hour to see if it has any effects on me, but I don’t think poisoning the food fits this woman’s MO.”

“I agree,” said Hotch, taking a pear. He followed Emily’s lead and cautiously bit into it. He nodded at the others.

The first rule of being held captive was to always take your food and water where you could get it. You never knew when your supply could be cut off.

They all reached in and took a piece of fruit, including Spencer. He had no desire to eat, but he knew he had to keep his strength up and get what he could down while it was still possible.

As he took his orange, he uncovered a note at the bottom of the bag. JJ saw it too, reaching in and grabbing it before he could.

They all watched her expectantly.

“Your room must always be clean. After you eat, put the food scraps in the bag and the bag in the chamber. There are consequences for breaking rules. Now, as a reward for good behavior, I will take away the burden of lies that weighs one of you down. If Dr Reid-”

She paused, reading further down the note, furrowing her brow.

They all stared at him. He tugged at his sleeves nervously.

“Keep going,” said Emily to JJ, though her eyes were fixed firmly on him.

JJ looked at him apologetically. He looked at the floor. She continued, “If Dr Reid is sick, it is only because he is missing his medicine. I gave you all a taste of it to get you here. I hope you don’t catch his disease.”

She dropped the note like it was radioactive. She mouthed the word 'sorry' at him, knowing as well as he did the shit show that was about to errupt. Derek immediately picked the note up. He looked over it himself like he didn’t want to believe JJ had read it accurately.

He looked back at Spencer.

They were all staring at him.

Instinct told him to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. Instead he stood and waited for the concrete beneath his feet to turn to liquid and encase him.

They were waiting for him to talk first.

He couldn’t.

“What’s she talking about, pretty boy?” asked Derek, finally taking pity on him and breaking the silence.

He took a few steps back, suddenly acutely aware of how close they were after gathering around the bag of fruit. “I have no idea,” he said petulantly, cringing at himself for it.

“It’s alright, kid,” said Rossi sympathetically. “Nobody is upset, just talk to us.”

Spencer’s brain sprinted in circles. Why did the lights have to be so bright?

He tried desperately to think of some clever way to talk himself out of it even though he’d figured out hours ago that this was going to happen. This Unsub’s plan was technically impressive, but it wasn’t exactly psychologically sophisticated. She wanted to out their secrets. This one was going to out itself pretty soon anyway, so of course she'd want to get to it first.

“Spencer,” said Emily, “How sick are you going to get?”

No is it true? Or does this mean what I think it means? Straight to believing it. They didn’t even look surprised. They looked like this was only confirming what they already knew. They looked sad.

Horribly, infuriatingly sad.

He ran a hand through his hair.

“The others are going to find us,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter.”

He wished he could believe it, but he wished they could believe it even more.

“This is why you woke up before the rest of us,” said JJ softly. “Why you weren’t as affected. It’s because your tolerance is up.”

“You guys can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to pit us against each other,” he accused, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and taking another step back. "We're just playing into her fantasy."

“Don’t think about her right now,” said Emily. “If you’re going into withdrawal then we need to know exactly what to expect. Mind games can’t take precedence over your physical safety.”

“I’ll be fine. Opioid withdrawal has a statistically low mortality rate, with only 2% of the-”

“So it is opioid withdrawal?” She tilted her head. “Look at you, Spencer. You’re shaking, your skin is clammy. You said yourself, we’ve only been in here 14 hours! If it’s this bad already, how much worse is it going to get?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped. “Yes, fine, I’m going to get sick! What do you want me to say?”

“Easy, pretty boy,” said Derek gently. “This isn't an attack. The fact is, we’re all locked in here together and this is happening whether we like it or not. We just need you to tell us exactly how bad this is going to get.”

“I don’t know,” he said shortly.

“Yes, you do,” countered Emily. “You cold give us a detailed breakdown of the symptoms, timeline, and risk factors of an opioid detox based on frequency and duration of usage. You just don’t want to admit how much and for how long you’ve been using because it’s bad, right?” she said. Typical Emily, so pragmatic. There would be plenty of time for sentiment once she had a plan, but no sooner. “This isn’t just a slip, is it? You’re shooting up again and have been for a while.”

Spencer flinched. So did everyone else.

All eyes were on him, but for some reason it was Hotch’s gaze he caught. The man hadn’t said anything the entire exchange. Just stood at the back of the group and watched carefully.

When their eyes met, Hotch gave him a tight, sympathetic smile.

Spencer looked at a spot just behind Emily’s head and spoke quietly. “I… I’ll be fine, Emily. I’ll get sick but I’ll get better. It’s not the first time. I don’t need your help.”

“Roll up your sleeves,” she demanded.

He sputtered, “What? No!”

“Emily,” said Rossi placatingly. “Take a beat.”

She ignored him. “If you won’t tell us what to expect then show us. Spencer, I know this is fucking awful and believe me this is not the way I would like to have this conversation,” she said, gesturing to the oppressive room. “I am so sorry for not seeing what was happening and helping you sooner,” she said sincerely. “The least I can do is make sure you get through this safely.”

Even as he said it, he could feel himself regretting it, but before he could stop himself, “Fuck off Emily,” had slipped out his mouth.

JJ gasped and Derek interjected with a stern “Hey! I know this sucks but do not speak to her that way.”

“It’s fine,” said Emily. “I’m not trying to be condescending, Spencer. I’m just scared. I want to help.”

She sounded excruciatingly sincere. It made his blood boil.

“No,” he snapped, stepping back again until he felt the wall hit him. “None of you were there the other times I had to do this, and now you want me to defer to your expertise? What the hell do you know? What do any of you actually know? If you wanted to do an intervention you should have done it after Tobias Hankle, but none of you said anything and I don’t need you like that anymore,” he spat.

Emily’s eyes were wide with shock.

Spencer's words surprised himself just as much as the rest of them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taken aback. “You’re right. I should have said something back then.”

Guilt twisted its way through the panic and rage, settling into his chest.

They were all trapped down there together and here he was punishing Emily for caring. He tried his best to hold onto the anger. To wrap himself in it. He could feel it slipping away.

Hotch stepped forward. Spencer had almost forgotten he was there.

“I was team leader at the time of the Hankle case. I’m the one who decided not to intervene,” he said firmly. “Emily brought her concerns to me and I shut them down because I was afraid if word got out you would lose your job, making your situation worse. I trusted that you were strong enough to recover. And you were. But you never should have done so without proper support. I regret that, Reid, and I always will.”

Maybe it was the stark inevitability catching up with him that there was simply no way to avoid going through withdrawal in front of them. Maybe it was the way his eyes kept searching for an exit he knew didn't exist. Maybe it was thinking about Tobias Hankle. All these years and all the other traumas, and a part of him was still stuck in that cabin in Georgia. A part of him always would be. Whatever it was, the fight left him.

He was still pressed up against the wall, and he slid down it until he was sitting on the cold concrete floor. The others sat too.

“I don’t know why I said that. I’m not angry about it anymore. Or, at least… I’m not angry at any of you,” he said, chancing an apologetic glance at Emily. “Maybe at Gideon, still. But what’s the point in that?”

“When someone who hurt you is gone it doesn’t take away the scars,” said Rossi. “I loved Gideon, but he made mistakes. It’s okay to be pissed about it.”

“Do you guys really want to hear all this?” asked Spencer skeptically.

They might say that’s what they want, but the subject of his addiction had never felt particularly welcome. They had always flinched away from it, just as they had only a minute ago when Emily referenced him shooting up.

He certainly didn’t want their pity or concern.

“Of course we do,” said Emily, with the others nodding emphatically.

He hesitated. They already knew, he reminded himself. They were asking because they care about him and because the secret was already out. He couldn't put it back.

“2 years. Or 1 year, 11 months, and 3 days, to be precise.”

Silence. He wanted to say stunned silence? But it could have as easily been disgust. He couldn’t tell.

“How is that possible?” asked Derek, deceptively calm.

“We couldn’t miss the signs for that long,” said JJ disbelievingly.

“It’s been on and off,” he clarified. “I was only using in between cases when I was last working with the BAU.” Then, sheepishly, “Mostly." There were some cases... well. He'd done his best. "You would be surprised how easy it is to miss substance abuse in people close to you. One study showed that up to 60% of heroin users are what we call ‘functional addicts,’ meaning they can hold down fulltime employment, social lives, and sometimes even have their addiction go unnoticed by intimate partners for months or years at a time,” he rattled off, before catching the look in his friends’ eyes and stopping. “It isn’t your fault,” he said simply. “I’ve been avoiding you on purpose. Not to mention you base your warning signs on how I behaved when I first became addicted, expecting me to be volatile and disorganized. But I’m not 25 and in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic event anymore. I have more control. It’s not a problem like it was back then,” he assured them.

“Feels like a pretty big problem right now,” said Rossi.

“Functional addicts don’t stay functional forever, pretty boy,” said Derek. “I’m sure you know the other side of those statistics.”

“I don’t have a large enough dataset to offer credible statistics on the amount of opioid addicts who get kidnapped and forced to detox in bunkers. In retrospect, I should have realized that I am an outlier who should have expected something like this to happen,” he deadpanned.

“Well, we’re all outliers vis a vis kidnappings,” replied Emily dryly. "I'm sure that makes you feel better."

“I hate doing this while we’re being watched,” he said. “It feels like we’re encouraging her. This is exactly the outcome she was hoping for. It’s why she dosed you all with opioids instead of using pure sedatives. Just to taunt me.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” said Hotch. “What matters is that we get you through withdrawal. We need accurate information to ensure we know what to do.”

“I know,” he admitted reluctantly. He took a long, slow breath. “Ask me whatever you need to,” he said, directing it to Emily.

He wished he was high right now. He’d give anything for a hit.

Emily nodded; sentiment once again pushed down the line to when the job was done. “Dilaudid?”

“It’s whatever is easiest to get.”

“So, heroin,” she clarified.

He looked at his lap. “It doesn't make a difference to the withdrawal process. It’s all derivatives of the same compound.”

“It makes a difference to your risk of overdose,” she clarified, “but you’re right, that’s not an immediate concern,” she agreed. “Needles?”

He nodded, not looking at them.

“It’s okay, kid,” said Rossi. “We’re not judging.”

He didn’t really believe that, so he didn’t respond to it.

“Every day? If so, how many times a day?” Emily asked.

“It was previously more intermittent, as I said, but for the past 8 months or so It has been twice a day at a minimum.” A beat. "Usually more."

“Okay. Thank you for telling us all that. I know this isn’t easy,” she said. “I just have one more question for now. Is there any risk that you have an infection?”

“All intravenously administered drugs come with a statistically significant risk of infection,” he said, ready to ramble about it before she threw up a hand to preemptively cut him off. “I always use sterile equipment and alcohol wipes. I’m fine.”

“You are anything but fine, pretty boy,” said Derek, shaking his head. “But we’ll get you through this.”

“That would be more comforting if we weren’t locked in a bunker by a serial killer.”

“Minor problem,” Derek joked. “Consider it a study on innovative approaches to running a rehabilitation facility.”

Spencer didn't laugh. Neither did anyone else. JJ placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

He caught Hotch's eye again, briefly.

Had any of them ever really had a shot at escaping their pasts or was this all inevitable? He wasn't getting clean by choice. Hotch wasn't there in the bunker to reconnect with them. Spencer was struck by the reality that proximity did not always mean closeness.

He was already thinking about the moment he could get out of here and get high again. Was Hotch just counting the seconds until he could disappear from their lives forever?

Assuming they didn't all just die, of course.

Maybe that's what he should be focusing on now. Just don't die. Figure out the rest later.

He leaned into JJ, letting her put an arm around him. The red light from the camera blinked down at them.

#criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #bau team #bau team as family #criminal minds evolution

7 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year

Text

3rd Life: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"No man or woman who tries to pursue an ideal in his or her own way is without enemies." - Daisy Bates

Two girls went missing recently, and you were brought in on the case as early as possible to find them. Though, as soon as you landed, you got news of one of the girls being found dead. You got there as quickly as possible, but the girl was so badly mutilated that only the parents would be able to tell who the kid is. Of course, you're not going to let the parents see this kind of horror, so the local police are trying to keep them away until you get there.

"Have you ID'd the body?" Hotch asks Detective Payton.

"No, but we know it's a girl.

"Is it one of the missing girls?"

"All I can tell you right now is it's a girl."

"Did you draw up a list of those involved in the search?" Derek asks.

"You're gonna find the parents of the girls on that list. They're over there as well," the detective points to where the parents are.

"Please tell me they didn't discover the body," Emily sighs.

"No. As soon as our dogs caught her scent, we kept them away from the scene."

"Wasn't she missing for eighteen hours?"

"That's correct. We found the body five hours ago."

"The parents have been here all this time?" JJ asks, looking over at them. You can feel how distressed they are, and maybe it's best if you're one of the ones they talk to. "I'm going to go talk to them."

"I'll go with you," you volunteer.

"Thanks. I gotta be honest, guys. I'm glad you're all here, because I have never seen anything like that," Detective Payton says.

You and JJ break off from the group and head over to the parents who are in tears at the thought of one of their daughters lying dead less than a hundred yards away from them. The parents of Katie Owen (one of the girls who went missing) and the father of Lindsey Vaughn (the other girl who went missing) are gathered around each other. When they see you and JJ head over, Katie's parents are eager for some answers.

You can feel how worried and depressed Katie's parents are, but when you look at Jack who is Lindsey's father, you can't read anything off him. In fact, you're not getting anything off him. It's like he wants to hide who he is from everyone, like he has a secret that only he knows.

However, the last person you couldn't read anything off of, he turned out to be the most prolific serial killer you've ever seen.

Jack looks over at you and feels uncomfortable under your stare, but you hold your gaze a few moments longer. There are breaks in his energy that can make you see he is holding his emotions back, so you're not worried about him becoming a serial killer. After a few more moments, you look away from him and turn to the mother of Katie, Lori.

"Bruce and I were out for dinner. Jack dropped off the girls at the movie theater," Lori began explaining.

"I arranged to pick them up, but they never came out," Jack finished. "I went inside, but they weren't there. An usher told me he saw them leave the theater halfway through the movie."

"Where did they go?" you ask.

"He said they went outside for a cigarette."

"We didn't even know Katie smoked," Lori sighs.

"Did he say if they came back inside?"

"No. We've been here all day," Jack's friend, Pat Mannan, says. "Why won't they let us know who that is?"

"They don't know who it is, do they?" Jack asks before you have a chance to answer.

"Why? What did they do to her?" Lori cries.

"Listen, until we know who it is and what exactly happened, we--"

"We? You mean the FBI, right?" Pat cuts you off.

"Sir, we're only here to help the police find out who did this."

"Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" Jack snaps.

Jack takes Lori, who is crying, off to the side to comfort her.

"His wife passed away a few years ago. Lindsey's all that he has," Pat backs up his friend, going over to the couple, leaving Bruce left.

You watch Jack comfort Lori, but you're not convinced he is fully here. He takes a pill bottle out of his pocket and downs some pills. He is definitely hiding something, and you think Hotch deserves to know.

"I'll be right back."

You leave JJ's side and head back to the rest of the group. Hotch is off to the side on the phone, but when he sees you, he quickly hangs up on whoever it was. Rossi is by his side as well, but he welcomes you in.

"Hey, so Katie's parents genuinely feel guilty and sad for their daughter's disappearance. You know, how a parent is supposed to feel. Jack isn't like that. I can't read anything off him. It's like he is hiding something, but I don't know what."

"Thank you," Hotch nods.

"What do you think he's hiding?" Rossi asks.

"I don't know." You leave their side and head down to Derek, Emily, and Spencer who are examining the young girl. "What do you got?"

"Developed bruises and cuts layer upon layer. Bindings cut deep into her flesh, and around her neck there's heavy bruising. She was strangled to death," Spencer says.

"By what?"

"A belt was used. You can see the indentation marks of a buckle."

"Why destroy her hands and face?" Detective Payton asks.

"It indicates she knew the attacker. By destroying her ID, they're hoping to delay you making a connection between the victim and the unsub. It gives him time to get away," you explain.

"Do you think the other girl's still alive?"

"Until we find her body, we should assume she is," Rossi answers.

"One thing's for sure--this is only the dump site. We need to figure out where she was killed, and which girl we're looking for."

You look up and see Jack standing on a cliff that is farther from where Katie's parents are, trying to get some kind of clue as to what is going on.

What could you be hiding, Jack Vaughn?

You turn back to the group and see Derek on the phone. He got news of there being a voicemail that was left on a cell phone that was left behind by one of the girls. You can only assume that he's on the phone with Penelope.

"Garcia. I got a cell phone number for you. 619-555-0199. Access the last message left. I need you to put it through a filter."

She won't be able to give you an answer right now, so in the meantime, you need to get the body out of here without the parent's seeing. The officers will take care of removing the body and clearing out the crime scene while your team will work on getting the parents back home so they can rest. It probably won't happen, but they need to rest before they can come back tomorrow. It's late, and you'll have an answer for them tomorrow, you know it.

You head to the station once you know the parents will head home to tackle the case from there. It took the rest of the night, but Penelope video chatted you once she got the audio from that voicemail. It's almost dawn when you hear from her, so you know the parents are eager for an answer by now.

"Please, no, please. Please stop it! Stop it! Oh, please, god, stop!" one of the girls pleaded for their lives.

"Don't fight them. Don't! Don't show them you're scared," the other one cries.

"Daddy, help me, please!"

"It lasts exactly fifty-three seconds, and then it goes dead. I think she was strangled," Penelope says after the voicemail ended.

"What do you want to do?" Derek asks Rossi.

"Do? There's nothing else to do. The parents can ID the voice."

"Are you serious?" Emily gasps.

"No, no, sir, they can never hear this," Penelope shakes her head.

"It'll be the fastest way to figure out who we're looking for."

"There's gotta be another way."

"I really hate to admit this, but Rossi is right," you side with him. "It'll suck, and it'll hurt them more than they already are, but it's the only fastest way. It's the only way to find the other one still alive."

"Call the parents."

Both parents were waiting on a call to come to the police station, so they were all there as quickly as they could get there. Hotch took the time to explain what is going on and how gathering DNA evidence could take some time that you don't have.

"My feeling is by the time we get the DNA results back, it would be too late to save whoever they still have. It's up to you."

"This message, what did it record?" Jack asks.

"It's the last moments of one of your daughters' lives."

"Oh, my God," Lori cries.

"If you choose to wait, you can make a public appeal to the media," JJ offers.

"Either way, we're still looking for one of your daughters."

"Live appeal? I don't think that's a good idea, Jack," Pat says. "We know they're set up to see the reaction of the parent to check for signs of guilt."

"Is that true?" Lori asks.

"In some cases."

"I'm sorry, Bruce, I can't do this. I'm... sorry."

Lori leaves the room since she can't bear to hear what is about to happen. The others want to stay and listen, so Hotch gives Penelope the okay to play the message. The message plays, and you watch the parents to see if you can determine whose daughter is on the message. You get tears from hearing it again as the young girl cries for her dad to come help her.

Bruce's whole demeanor changes when he recognizes it as his daughter's voice. His whole energy plummets to the ground as his heart breaks. Jack is calm and collected, but you know he is relieved that it's not Lindsey.

"Play it again," Bruce stutters with tears in his eyes.

"Mr. Owen..."

"That's not Katie," he cuts Hotch off. "I know her voice. That's not her. That's not Katie."

"Bruce," Lori says from behind him.

"I am so sorry, Mrs. Owen," you say with tears in your eyes.

"No. No, Lori, it's okay. It's not her," Bruce says, going over to his wife.

"Bruce--"

"No, Jack, it's not Katie, right? You know--Jack, it's not Katie."

"It's Katie."

"No, it's not. Please..."

Both him and Lori break down crying at the thought of their little girl never coming home again. Detective Payton believes they've had enough, so he escorts them away. Pat takes away Jack to talk to him about what's going to happen next, and as soon as they're gone, Hotch returns to his stoic state.

"I want Lindsey's picture everywhere."

"What they did to Katie took a long time. It was very violent and we know Katie screamed. Yet no calls from complaining neighbors. Why?"

"There wasn't any," Payton says, returning.

"The abduction site is nine miles north of the dump site on the edge of town. Both are indicators of a comfort zone, so I'm assuming the kill site is somewhere between these two points."

"That's a wide area."

"Do a grid search. Narrow it down to wooded areas, industrial sites, and abandoned houses. He needed privacy and he needed a controlled environment. What's critical right now is a heavy police presence."

"Rossi, in the morning I want you, Reid, Y/N, and Morgan to go in and search Jack Vaughn's house. Prentiss, you and I will go to where the girls were last seen."

You didn't sleep well that night because you couldn't help but think of what Lori and Bruce were going through. You were never present in Hannah's life, but if you came across her dead body, you know you'd never be able to sleep without seeing her face or hearing her last words.

You're tired when you arrive at Jack's house, but you won't let it affect the work you do here. When Jack opens the door to let you in, he's more closed off than yesterday. What has he done in his life that caused him to be this way? He won't give anything away, but you're sure as hell going to try. If he won't give anything away, then his daughter might. You head to her bedroom to see if she might give something away.

"What happened to Lindsey's mother?"

"Does it matter?" Pat asks defensively.

"It does to Lindsey." You point out the pictures of her and her mother scattered around her room. "It's called victimology. It helps us understand more about her."

"How?" Jack asks.

"It's all in the way she carries herself. How she interacts socially with others."

"She's just like any other fifteen-year-old," Jack shrugs.

"No, she's not. Everything in our house is an externalization of ourselves. This room isn't what you'd expect of a teenage girl. There's no J.T. posters, no framed pictures, no journals, and no cuddly toys. The walls are a mute tone. All this suggests that Lindsey keeps herself hidden. She's shy and shares very little with others," you explain.

"Except for one person--Katie," Rossi finishes for you.

"All that from this room, huh?"

"Is she wrong?"

Your phone rings, and when you see it's Penelope, you excuse yourself. You leave her room and pace the hallway while you answer it.

"Hey, Pen."

"I ran a check on the folks involved in the search. All good. Nice neighborhood and no sexual offenders. Here's the big news. I found a blog Katie ran on faceplace.tv. She talks a lot about Lindsey, and, boy, she did not like Lindsey's dad. Lindsey and Jack moved to Chula Vista six years ago. Up until nine, according to Katie, Lindsey lived in Maine. Jack owned a fishing boat with his three brothers, and their mom stayed at home. Then, tragedy struck. Fish stock went down, dad was forced to sell his boat, the family fell apart, and mom died in a car accident."

"It sounds familiar," you mutter.

"It should. It's the exact life story of a girl named Lindsey in a book called The Emerald Sea of Dreams. I've read it like five times. If Lindsey stole her name and her story from a book, why didn't her father say anything about it?"

You look around the hallway and notice a computer at the end by the stairs. You might be able to see what they were up to based on their browser history. You look behind you to make sure no one is coming before hopping onto the computer. You look through it, but something isn't right here. You try to look for his browser history, but everything has been wiped. Upon further examination, you know why.

"His computer is set to automatically clear the web browser history and wipe the temp file on a daily basis."

"Give me his IP address."

"374.54.12.3."

"Nothing. He must be using a gray box proxy server. It makes tracking his internet history impossible."

"Can I help you?"

You physically jump at the sound of Jack's voice from behind you. You quickly hang up on Penelope without telling her anything. You can explain what happened after, but right now, you have to keep your emotions in check. If you're being honest, you're kind of scared of Jack because of what happened with Frank.

"I was just checking to see if Lindsey had contacted anyone on the internet. Predators tend to--tend to do that."

"Is that right?"

"Yes." You get up and step away from the computer, your heart racing. "Statistically, 43% of predators--"

"Lindsey doesn't like computers."

"Cool. Excuse me," you whisper.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

23 notes · View notes