The whole way home, Spencer alternated between flares of pain from his abused body and flashes of panic that left him wanting to gasp for breath. Instinctively his body tried to curl in on itself in the natural defense mechanism that he’d built a long time ago. His knees wanted to curl up to his chest and his arms wanted to wrap around them. All in all, he wanted to curl into a ball and hide. But he couldn’t do that. He had to try and calm down. Had to find a way to get the hell out of this situation. What made it worse was the car gradually following them home. Their stalker was following them.
That made things worse for two glaringly large reasons. If, if, Morgan persisted in checking Spencer over and he found out what was really wrong with the younger man, well, he was going to blow a gasket. There was the huge potential that he was going to yell or hit something as he tended to do when he was furious. Spencer knew the fury would be a defense for the fear and heartache his friend would feel, but it would still be there and it could spell out to their stalker that something was wrong. If he actually came close enough to the house, or trained a listening device on the house, he might even hear what was wrong and then their cover would be blown.
Two, if the stalker stuck around and watched them through a window instead of on the video, he would have a much better view of the ‘fake sex’ they were going to have that night. Which meant that he would have a better chance of seeing the bruising on Spencer’s body and that could turn him off of them and send him out to find a couple that better fit their needs.
So not only was Spencer trying to figure out how to keep his huge secret from Morgan, he was also trying to figure out how to keep it from the stalker too.
You never should have agreed to take this case. You should have told them no, or told them that there was something that prevented you from being able to do this. Maybe they would have asked for an explanation, but you could have come up with something to cover yourself to them better than you can think of a way to hide this from an Unsub.
Yet his brain was more focused on keeping everything from Morgan than preserving their case. Another thing that showed that he shouldn’t have taken this assignment. The case should be what was important. Innocent lives hung in the balance. But lives hang in the balance with your secret too. You know what Michael will do to them if you try and leave him and you know that if Morgan finds out the truth, he won’t let you stay. He’ll fight you tooth and nail if you try to go back to Michael when this is done and over with. You are so screwed. You’re such an idiot.
That was a fact he couldn’t deny. He was a humongous idiot. For all his high intelligence, he’d still managed to get himself in a stupid situation and then slowly let it mess up more and more until now he was here. Now he was screwed.
If you hadn’t been such a klutz at the store than this wouldn’t have happened. You would have figured out a way to hide from not only Morgan but the Unsub when you fake sex with your fake boyfriend. But now…now you’re just fucked, you idiot. What the hell are you going to do now? Morgan’s going to flip when he sees you! Or he’s going to laugh at you for being dumb enough to get to this point. Maybe he’ll think you deserve this. Maybe he’ll agree with Michael. Maybe, with your luck, he’ll think this means you’re an easy target. He’ll think you’re up for grabs too. Think you could survive that? Think you could handle Morgan treating you like the trash you are?
He knew the answer to that. If Morgan reacted that way, if he treated him the way Michael did, it would destroy Spencer. It would simply break what little there was left of him. There would be no recovering from a blow like that.
So wrapped in thought was he, Spencer didn’t even notice when they reached their home. He didn’t register it the first few times Morgan called his name. Nor did Spencer realize how badly he was scaring him at the moment. Morgan could see the glassy, vacant look in Spencer’s eyes and the tight way his body seemed frozen in place. “Spencer!”
That final shout broke through. Spencer jerked in his seat, his body demanding he cower and protect himself, his brain jolting back to the present moment with a sudden lurch. Life came back to his eyes. He turned those eyes to find Morgan staring at him with a concern so strong it was almost smothering. Then Spencer looked around, realizing they were parked in the driveway at their house. Oh. They were home. No! They couldn’t be home yet! He had no idea what he was going to do. No idea what to say!
“Come on, pretty boy. Let’s get you inside. We’ll make sure you’re ok and then I think you might need to lie down for a while.” Morgan said softly. He was using the voice he normally reserved for when he was around scared victims or children. It was almost funny how accurate that was. Could I be considered a victim right now? Spencer wondered.
Without a single word, Spencer nodded and undid his seatbelt before opening his car door. He stepped out and automatically moved to the door behind his. Just as he opened it, Morgan was there. How on earth had he got around the car so fast? “Don’t worry about grabbing things, Spencer. I got this. Why don’t you just go on inside, sugar? I’ll bring stuff in.”
Yes, yes, that was good. That would give Spencer more time to think. Time away from Morgan to figure out what the hell he was going to say or do. Spencer gave a jerky nod and forced his aching body to move toward the house. He would just go inside and go somewhere to think. Where to go? The living room had a camera, the dining room had a camera and Morgan would be bringing their groceries in there, the bedroom had a camera. That only left the office or the bathroom for privacy.
The bathroom. He could not only have privacy from the cameras in there, but from Morgan as well. With shuffling steps, Spencer took himself to the house, pausing to unlock the door, and then he was inside and heading straight to the bathroom. Only when the door was shut behind him and he was alone in that little room did he finally relax his control slightly.
His hands gripped the bathroom sink in an effort to keep himself upright. The pain in his backside had thankfully gone down a little. It wasn’t as white hot as it had been. But the pain in his ribs was increasing due to the way his panic was making his breathing difficult. In turn, the difficulty breathing exasperated his bruised ribs, which actually made it harder to breathe. It was a vicious cycle to get stuck in and if he didn’t get it under control, he was going to make himself pass out.
Breathe, Spencer! Just quit your sniveling for one damn minute and concentrate on breathing! You pass out and there’s no covering up anything. Morgan will find you, find the marks, and your entire cover will be blown.
He took a few minutes to focus on breathing in and out with slow, deep, even breaths. Only when he felt he was under control again did he let his brain concentrate on something else. What the hell am I going to do? Was there any way that he was going to be able to hide this from Morgan now? Did…did he even want to? Part of him had wanted to tell someone, to tell Morgan, for a long time now. Fear kept him from doing that. But now he was in a situation that really didn’t look like it was going to give him a way out of it. This was out of his control, right?
No, no. He had to try to distract Morgan from this. He had to find a way to keep this a secret!
“Spencer!” Morgan’s voice suddenly echoed down the hall, startling him. “Your dad’s on the phone!”
Dad? Oh, Hotch. Hotch is on the phone. Spencer took a few more calming breaths and then straightened his body. “Coming!” he called out. He pushed away as much of the stress as he could and headed out of the bathroom. If Aaron was calling, it would be something to do with work. He needed to have his brain in work mode, not personal mode. But why was his boss calling as ‘dad’ on Morgan’s phone?
He found Morgan standing in the living room, phone in hand. He held it out to Spencer, who gave him a smile and thanked him before taking the phone. “Hey, dad.”
“Aw, sweetie, you ok?” Garcia’s voice floated over the line, full of concern. “I was watching the security camera at the grocery store to keep an eye on you and the stalker jerk and I saw your little tumble. You looked like you hit your cute little hiney pretty hard there.”
Well now if this wasn’t just perfect. Garcia had been watching and had seen his stupid little stunt? Great. Just great. He tried to figure out a way of answering her without breaking cover. “Yeah, we just got back from the store. Derek’s unloading the food right now. Why are you calling Derek’s phone, dad?” He said in an effort to remind her how he had to talk. She caught on quick.
“Oh, didn’t even think about that, sweet stuff. Ok, let me phrase things so they’re easier for you to answer. First, I tried your phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Next. Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m doing well, Dad. Don’t worry.” Spencer smiled a little as he stepped over to the couch and sat down so he’d be out of the way as Morgan brought in the last of the bags. The older man used his foot to shut the door before heading toward the dining room.
Garcia’s relief was easy to hear over the phone line. “You are such a klutz, you know that, right? Only you would manage to knock over an entire display of hot chocolate and then fall in the middle of it and take someone else down with you.”
Thinking for a moment, Spencer finally said. “You know that’s not my fault. That’s just how I am. At least people are entertained, right?” That answered her safely and if anyone was listening, they would just think he was responding to something his ‘dad’ said. It wasn’t going to blow their cover at all.
“Don’t worry; I’m the only one that saw your little mishap.”
“Well, we can be thankful for small blessings then. It’ll stay that way, right?”
Her laugh filled his ear and made him smile. Who couldn’t smile at Garcia’s natural joy in everything? “Yes, yes, it’ll stay that way. You’re awfully cute when you’re flustered, though. Maybe I’ll keep a copy of the video for blackmail purposes.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well, since you sound so distressed by the idea, I supposed I could be good this once. But only for you, my little dove.”
My little dove? Sometimes the things she called him had Spencer wanting to shake his head at her. She really was crazy sometimes. “Look, Dad, I think I’m going to go give Derek a hand with putting away everything, ok? I’ll call later tonight to talk more. Love you.” The last part slipped out almost stiff; those weren’t words he was used to saying.
Of course, Garcia’s reply was a peppy “Love you too, son!” and then the line went dead. He smiled and shook his head once more at her insanity. When he closed the phone and pushed himself up off the couch, he found Morgan leaning against the wall, watching him with a small smile. He held his hand out, taking his phone back when Spencer handed it over. “Come on, sugar. Let’s go take a look and make sure you’re ok. You look like you’re sitting kind of tenderly there.”
The panic seemed to come back almost instantly. “Oh, I uh, I’m fine, Derek. Really. Probably just bruised my tailbone. Don’t worry, I’ll be ok.” Spencer scrambled to say. Instantly he knew it was the wrong thing to have done. His panic must have shown on his face a little; it had definitely been in his words. Being the good profiler that he was, as well as one of the people who knew Spencer the best, naturally Morgan picked up on it. His eyes narrowed for just a split second. This his expression cleared to something that might have looked like humor to a person who didn’t know Morgan well. “Well, why don’t we go hop in the shower then? Let the heat ease it a little. I promise I’ll kiss it and make it better, later.”
Before Spencer could even think to protest, Morgan was snaking an arm out, capturing him around the waist and pulling him forward. He didn’t even blink before bending down and scooping Spencer up behind the knees. The younger man had to grab Morgan’s neck to keep himself from falling straight to the ground. “Derek!” he squeaked out.
Morgan laughed and took off down the hall. “You’re cute when you squeal.” He teased.
“Put me down!” The panic went up another notch. Morgan knew something was wrong. He knew and he was on a mission to find out what it was.
Laughing, Morgan used Spencer’s feet to push open the bathroom door. Very gently he set Spencer down on the bathroom counter, which only caused Spencer to wince. When he let go, Morgan’s smile was gone, but his voice stayed light. “There, I put you down. Now both of us are happy.” He teased in a light voice that didn’t match the worry on his face.
He leaned over, turning the water on and adjusting the temperature before turning the shower on. Once the bathroom was filled with the sound of the running shower, Morgan gave up all pretenses and turned back around. “Spencer, talk to me.” He spoke in a voice soft enough that the young agent almost couldn’t hear it over the sound of the water. But it was low enough that no one outside the bathroom would be able to hear anything unless they were pressed up against the door. Even then, they’d most likely only hear the murmur of voices but not the words. But Spencer could hear the worry in Morgan’s voice and see the slight snap of temper in his best friend’s eyes. “Come on, Spencer. What the hell is going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
Nerves seemed to have built a lump in Spencer’s throat. He swallowed, trying to wash it down. At the same time he tried to tell himself that Morgan wasn’t really mad at him, not really. Morgan wasn’t going to hurt him. Morgan had never done anything to hurt him. But he couldn’t help his reaction to having someone that obviously angry right in his face. His mouth trembled, but no words came out. Instead, to his utter embarrassment, tears built in his eyes.
The tears were Morgan’s undoing. Everything melted underneath a wave of tenderness. “Spencer.” He brought his hands up, cupping Spencer’s face so gently that it actually brought the tears on more.
“I’m sorry.” Spencer found himself whispering. He tried to turn his head away. The last thing he wanted was to look in Morgan’s eyes while breaking down like this. That just seemed the final shame. Wasn’t it all bad enough? He had to go and embarrass himself further by crying like a baby just because his friend was getting too close to his secret? But Morgan’s hands wouldn’t let his face turn. Spencer settled for closing his eyes.
In his brain he’d known ever since Morgan had mentioned checking him out what exactly it was that he was going to have to do. The panic on the way over here, the worry about what to say or how to divert Morgan’s attention, they had all been foolish hopes of a foolish man. This whole thing was foolish.
You knew you’d have to tell him when you took this assignment. It’s why you took it, isn’t it? A part of you has been dying to tell him but you’ve been too afraid. You’ve been a coward. You know that if you took this, the choice to tell him would be taken from you. You’d be forced into it. That was why you agreed to do this even though your brain told you not to. You’ve been aching for him to know because you know he’ll help you. You know he’ll save you, even from yourself.
The shocking truth of that thought struck Spencer right in his face. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, stunned by what he was thinking. In retrospect, he could perfectly see how he had led himself to this point. If he had really wanted to keep his secret, he never would have agreed to come. He never would have done anything that would have taken him away for months because he knew how Michael would act when he got back home. But a part of him had known going into this that Morgan would find out and Morgan would save him. What did that make Spencer? Smart, or pathetic? Smart to get help…pathetic that he couldn’t handle it on his own or even admit the need for help to himself.
Well, damn if he was going to be that much of a coward. Maybe he’d been a coward until now by going into this knowing that Morgan would force the truth from him. Now that the moment of truth was on him, he was going to make himself finish it. He was going to have that much strength at least.
It took every ounce of his courage to look up at Morgan; to not flinch away from the hands on his face or the steady gaze of his best friend. He took a shuddering breath and forced himself to say the words that would change his life. “Derek…I need help.” Three little words, but they meant so much. Asked for so much.
“Anything, Spencer. Whatever it is, I’m right here.”
Morgan’s instantaneous reply bolstered Spencer’s strength. He drew that strength around him and brought his hands up, taking hold of Morgan’s wrists and pulling them away from his face. Then he used his friend’s arms as braces to slide off the counter. Spencer knew there was no way he could speak the next part. Saying those few words had been hard enough. He couldn’t force himself to say the next. But…he could show him.
When he was steady on his feet, he let go of Morgan’s arms and took a step back from him, holding up his hand as a gesture to wait when he saw Morgan try to step after him. When he was sure Morgan wasn’t moving, Spencer brought his hands to his shirt. His fingers were trembling so badly that he almost couldn’t undo the buttons to his shirt. He was grateful that he hadn’t worn one of his usual vests. He’d been trying to blend in just a little more so he’d only put on the slacks and the long sleeved, button down shirt.
He was eternally grateful that Morgan didn’t step forward and try to help him. Button by button, Spencer painstakingly undid them all. For one final second he stood there, looking down to where he held his shirt together. Part of him was afraid to look up at Morgan. He knew there’d be confusion there. Morgan would be wondering why on earth he was stripping all of a sudden. But he was afraid to watch that confusion turn into something else. He was afraid—terrified!—at how Morgan would react to this.
With one final shuddering breath, Spencer lifted his hands and slid his shirt apart and off his shoulders. It dropped silently to the floor.
Even with the shower running, the sound filling the bathroom, Spencer still heard Morgan’s sharp intake of breath. It couldn’t be called a gasp; more like a pained hiss. Eyes still down, Spencer looked at his stomach, staring at the bruising that sat there. It was only days old, so it was mostly purple still, dark and ugly against his skin. Around the edges it was starting to turn into the colors that signified healing. But it covered his bottom two ribs, wrapped over his side and was down onto his stomach. Spencer knew it looked worse than it was.
He imagined Morgan was looking the rest of him over as well. There was faint bruising on his chest from a blow that had knocked him to the ground. On his left bicep was a pale bruise that was already changing to healing colors. It was light enough and high up enough that it wouldn’t show, even with a short sleeved shirt on. Peeking out from the top of his pants were two bruises—one on either hip where Michael’s hands had gripped him tightly to hold him in place. That thought brought a shudder to Spencer.
It was the shudder that spurred Morgan to movement. He stepped toward Spencer. Then, to Spencer’s complete and utter shock, Morgan dropped down to his knees in front of him. That shock had Spencer’s eyes going wide and had him unable to stop himself from staring down at his best friend. The absolute agony in Morgan’s eyes rendered Spencer speechless.
He watched as Morgan lifted a hand, gently tracing around the bruise on Spencer’s ribcage. The light contact made the younger man shiver. Then those fingers ghosted over to the other side, where a long scar sat. Spencer remembered that scar clearly. When Michael had struck him in the middle of the kitchen, Spencer had dropped the coffee pot. When he’d been struck again, he’d fallen to the ground, landing on top of the broken glass. It had sliced straight across his side. Unable to go to the emergency room, Spencer had applied butterfly tape to keep it closed and had dealt with the pain until it was gone.
Ever so gently, Morgan traced his fingers down to where the bruising peeked out of the top of Spencer’s pants. Even with the age of the bruises, it was still easy to see the distinct outline of a finger. If the pants were moved, Spencer knew it would be easy to see the outline of a whole hand on either side. He knew that, if he turned around, there would be even more bruising and scars for Morgan to look at. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but watch Morgan inspect the visible bruises.
Morgan took a shaky breath, his hand pausing to rest lightly on Spencer’s hip. Surprisingly, the contact didn’t scare Spencer. It was warm and almost comforting. He watched as Morgan’s head dropped down to stare at the floor. “How long?” The hoarse question was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. Automatically Spencer asked “What?” Even though he was pretty sure he knew what he’d said.
“How long has he been hitting you, Spencer?”
Quivering inside, Spencer prepared to say out loud what he’d been unable to say to anyone so far. Even though he knew Morgan knew now, saying the words seemed so much worse. So much harder. He had to force them past lips gone numb. “The first time was two months, two days and fifty four minutes from when we first became boyfriends.”
He actually saw the shudder that was like a small convulsion in Morgan’s body. “And you’ve been together how long?”
“One year, one month and three days.”
Abruptly Morgan rose to his feet, his eyes latching onto Spencer’s. The raw emotion in them was enough to have Spencer taking a step back. He’d been prepared for the anger, knew it was going to be there, but the amount of sorrow and pain left him stunned. He couldn’t look away from Morgan’s tortured eyes.
The older man was almost vibrating with his emotions. “Jesus, Spencer! This has been happening for, for…”
“Eleven months and one day.” The math automatically came to Spencer and out his mouth before he even realized he was going to say it.
Morgan’s eyes closed on a wave of emotion. One of his hands came up to run over his scalp. “What about that time you broke your wrist? You said you fell on ice or something, right? Was that him?”
Knowing it would only upset Morgan more, Spencer could barely force out the whispered “Yes.”
“And that time you said you were mugged?” Morgan’s eyes snapped open furiously, locking on Spencer’s face, daring him to lie. “You were fucking hospitalized, Spencer. Were you really mugged or was that him?” he hissed.
He couldn’t make the words come out. But his silence was answer enough. Fury exploded into Morgan’s face and his eyes. It triggered that automatic defense inside of Spencer so that, when Morgan stepped forward, the younger man couldn’t stop himself from backing into the wall or from bringing his hands up just slightly as if to protect himself. The instant Spencer realized what he was doing he dropped his hands.
His reaction seemed to stun Morgan. To Spencer’s amazement, Morgan’s anger looked like it just drained away, leaving behind emotions that Spencer couldn’t put a name to. “Oh, Spencer.” The soft words sounded so heartbroken. “Come here.”
When Morgan’s arms opened, Spencer didn’t allow himself to stop to think about it. He didn’t think about what Michael would say, or how anyone else might react, or how much trouble could come from this conversation later. Instead of thinking with his head for once, he listened to his heart. In two steps he was in Morgan’s arms, wrapped in a warm hug, clinging to the back of Morgan’s shirt like it was the only thing holding him grounded here. When the tears started he couldn’t stop them from coming. Then Morgan’s hand was stroking over his back while the other went up to tangle in his hair, keeping him in place. “That’s it, pretty boy.” He murmured in Spencer’s ear. “Just let it out. I’ve got you, honey. I’ve got you.”
And so, in the middle of a bathroom with the shower running and a stalker/killer potentially outside the house, Spencer Reid broke down in the arms of his best friend; a man who had always been there for him, no matter what.