![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Xanax Won't Cut It- Criminal Minds - Dave Rossi/Spencer Reid - Words: 3,043
Written for Angst Bingo; Prompts: Emotional Abuse, Headaches, Secrets, Serial Killers
Summary: Dave discovers that Spencer has been hiding things when things nearly go disastrously wrong on a case.
Content Notes: References to mental illness, discussion of emotional abuse of a child, discussions of murder (non-graphic), references to drug addiction, discussion of medical practices (non-graphic). PG-13.
Author Notes: References to Revelations, Memoriam and Corazon, takes place around mid-season six.
On AO3: Xanax Won't Cut It
Dave closed the front door, taking the extra moment to glance around his sunset-lit neighborhood with both resignation and suspicion before locking the door, making sure the deadbolt was secure and activating the electronic security system that both Morgan and Garcia had assured him was the best on the market. With Garcia's 'upgrades', she'd assured him that it was much better, and while Dave had learned not to doubt Garcia it didn't actually make him feel safer. Not tonight at least.
He wandered through the house, stopping to set his bag down in his office as he checked the windows. Paranoia following a case wasn't an uncommon phenomenon, but it was unusual for Dave to be effected this strongly - strongly enough that he was half-heartedly considering starting to look for a new home, maybe an apartment or anything that was out of the suburbs. Then again, seeing the bodies of seven murdered couples all neatly laid out in the bedrooms of their tidy suburban homes hadn't been the most pleasant thing Dave had experienced recently either. When he reached the bedroom, Spencer perched on the very edge of the bed as he stared down at the hardwood floor where the toes of his mismatched socks were fidgeting ever so slightly.
Dave thought that having seen Spencer almost shot in front of him in the bedroom of a suburban home only a few hours before might have something to do with his current unease and dislike of the home that he'd always found to be quite pleasant.
Spencer gave a slight twitch, his eyes rising to Dave and dropping back down in a quick flash when he realized that Dave was watching him, and one of his hands rose partway before he dropped it back down onto his lap.
Biting back a sigh, Dave walked into the bathroom and unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt before he turned on the tap and used his hands to cup cold water and splash it onto his face. There was nothing like Spencer's occasional uncertainty in their relationship, his reluctance to confront Dave when he knew that Dave was angry - not just upset but actually angry - that had the immediate effect of both dousing Dave's anger and making him wonder what exactly he thought he was doing when had the audacity to fall in love with Spencer Reid.
He looked up to the mirror, the light streaming in from the high window throwing everything into a stark relief, and he watched as water from his face dripped down and snuck under the collar of shirt in small rivulets. As he blinked the remaining water away from his eyes he thought that he looked the same as he had this morning, and the morning before that, and the morning before they'd taken this case. He'd even go as far to say that he looked about the same as he had six or seven months ago, though Spencer would probably point out that a minute change that occurred gradually over a period of time was much more difficult to detect. Which was probably why Dave had allowed himself to fall into complacency, at least in their relationship.
Once he and Spencer had worked out the basic obstacles of their relationship, handled their families and the team knowing, as well as all of their various insecurities that came from a lifetime of issues on both of their parts, Dave had assumed that the worst was now in the past. There would be rough patches, undoubtably, as their job tended to not lead to a quiet mental and emotional life even when it wasn't actively rooting out half-forgotten moments of trauma. But Dave had thought they had navigated each of those as they'd arisen and had come out the other side stronger and more secure in their relationship. Apparently Dave had been wrong about a lot of things.
Dave glared at his reflection and pulled a hand towel down from the rack to pat his face the rest of the way dry. He, on occasion, had a flair for the dramatic; it was part of what made what otherwise might make dull and gory reading about serial killers into national best sellers. But he knew that that line of thinking wasn't helpful, and that no matter how wronged he felt that Spencer had been keeping things from him, it wasn't going to make the situation better. Sure, he could go out there and yell, maybe say something angry and hurtful about how he thought that they were in an equal partnership and that they trusted each other, but that would only drag this out longer and push Spencer away from him. Steadying and calming himself, Dave opened the door of the bathroom and leaned against doorframe.
Spencer hadn't moved from where he was at the end of the bed, only just barely resting his weight like he wasn't sure he should be sitting at all, and the strap of his bag was still looped over one of his shoulders. The only noticeable difference that Dave could see was that Spencer had wrapped his arms up to his chest; not folded in defiance, but pressed tight like he was holding himself together.
Dave pushed away the vivid memory of Spencer stumbling in front of the unsub with his forehead creased with pain and his eyes squeezing shut as his gun faltered. Not certain that his touch would be welcomed at the moment, Dave sat on the edge of the bed, far enough away that they weren't touching but that they were within reach of each other. He settled his full weight and turned so that he could watch Spencer with more scrutiny and intensity than he'd turned on his partner for more than a year.
"How long?" Dave asked, keeping his voice level.
Spencer thought for a moment, his entire body falling still of any restless motion before he turned to Dave, not quite raising his head enough to met Dave's eyes. "Four months, though the intensity has varied greatly," Spencer said, his neck arching as he ducked his head down further.
The first thing Dave noticed was the lack of reassurance that it had never happened on a case before, and the second was that the time frame coincided with when Spencer started wearing his glasses more often. "When were you planning on telling me?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer. He realized after the number of failed marriages he'd already had, he should probably learn not to ask things that he doesn't really want to know. Maybe working for the FBI and BAU had dulled his resistance to seeing and learning things that he might otherwise allow himself to ignore; that could explain a lot about why his relationship with his first wife had seemingly dissolved so suddenly.
When Spencer didn't answer right away, his head rolling to the side as he focused his eyes across the room at the door that led to the hallway, Dave found that he didn't need a verbal answer. There was a growing body of research suggesting that nonverbal communication was paramount in understanding what a person meant, it was research that they put to use every time they interviewed someone, but Dave didn't need Spencer to rattle off the percentages various studies had come up with in order to know what Spencer looking away meant.
"You weren't going to tell me," Dave said flatly. He concentrated on pushing back the flood of remembered anger when he closed his eyes briefly and thought of the unsub swinging around and pointing his gun at Spencer. The only reason Spencer hadn't been shot was because he had stumbled against a small table and was bent forward when the unsub had fired his gun; Prentiss, Morgan, and Dave all firing into the unsub only a second later. Dave didn't have to ask to know that Spencer hadn't told Hotch or anyone else on the team. Even if their relationship had come as a bit of a surprise to almost everyone - Garcia was the only one who had grinned at them from the very start - Dave was certain that if one of them had known they would have told him. Even Morgan, who it had taken a very long and private conversation with Spencer before he'd accepted that Dave and Spencer's relationship was on the up and up, would have at least told Hotch if he knew something was wrong with Spencer.
"There's nothing wrong with me," Spencer said so quietly that he could have just as easily not spoken at all.
Dave's eyes narrowed, surprised that Spencer was even bothering to deny that he had almost been killed earlier that very day. Then again, he'd watched as his own father had denied that he had all the warning signs of lung cancer for years before going to a doctor. "I think it's pretty clear that something is wrong," he said, trying to decide the best way to approach this. Spencer was wary of doctors and hospitals even when it was just for their routine physicals.
"No, I've been to the doctor. I've been to four different doctors. There is nothing physically wrong with me that they can find." Spencer looked up suddenly, meeting Dave's eyes for the first time since Dave had rushed to him after the unsub had been taken down. "They've done two CT-scans, an MRI and a full battery of cognitive and eye tests."
Unable, or unwilling, to stop himself, Dave reached out and took Spencer's hand. His chest ached as he thought of Spencer going through all of those tests and hospitals by himself. The last time Spencer had strep throat it had taken significant pleading and maneuvering on Dave's part before he could get Spencer to agree to make an appointment. Even then, as they'd sat in the waiting room and listened for Spencer's name to be called, Spencer didn't give him a single statistic on diseases being transmitted from other patients or the average wait time based on the type of hospital and region it was located in. Instead he had just hunched in and shifted restlessly until Dave had almost been ready to cancel the appointment and take Spencer back home with him. Dave thought of Spencer sitting in another waiting room all by himself, knowing that no one knew where he was, and running the statistically possibilities that he had a brain tumor or something equally horrifying and potentially life threatening.
Dave didn't bother to say that Spencer should have told him, should have let Dave come with him, because whenever something was really important Spencer insisted on doing it alone. Dave had heard horror stories, which was how he thought of them even if they hadn't been presented that way, from the other team members on how Spencer had managed to isolate himself and cope with the fallout of being tortured by Tobias Hankel alone. And then, in stories that were understated and only told in pieces and whispers, Dave had learned how Spencer had dealt with his resulting addiction to dilaudid on his own and had managed to stay clean for years. This impression had only been reinforced a little over two years ago in Vegas, before his relationship with Spencer had began, when Spencer had been so convinced that his father had killed a child and Spencer had lied to them in order to remain in Vegas to investigate by himself. Fortunately Morgan had known instantly what was up and had stayed behind with a nod from Hotch and Dave had stayed back as well. In the end, Dave was glad they'd stayed because there was no accounting for what might have happened to Spencer if he'd gone down that line of questioning by himself, even though Spencer had pushed most of the investigation by himself.
"Spencer," Dave started even though he wasn't sure what he could say to help. It wasn't like he could tell Spencer that the doctors tests were wrong.
"They suggested that my headaches might be psychosomatic," Spencer said quickly, interrupting before Dave could say anything more. "I couldn't…"
Dave gently squeezed Spencer's hand, grateful that he hadn't pulled away from him even when he was visibly distressed. "You couldn't what?" he asked, hating that he found himself using the same voice that he automatically used when interviewing traumatized victims.
"I couldn't tell you that. I didn't want you to think I was crazy," Spencer finished. His eyes fell closed and a brief tremor passed through the hand that was holding onto Dave's.
"I wouldn't think that, not just because you've been having migraines," Dave said, knowing all too well how afraid Spencer was that he'd inherited his mother's illness.
Spencer sighed and pulled his hand away as he opened his eyes again. "I know that. I do. I keep telling myself that this is different."
"Different then your mother?" Dave pressed. As much as he wanted to let the conversation drop and go pour himself a scotch and let Spencer settle in with a stack of books or something, this was something he couldn't let happen again. Not if Spencer was going to be out in the field.
"Yes. I don't remember what her first symptoms were, I was too young to understand that she was sick until later, and even then it wasn't until I had started high school when I was ten that I understood the implications of her illness. My father called her crazy, when they fought. Said that she was a lunatic, insane. I never believed him until I did the research, even though most of those terms are outdated or have meanings that are in reference to law, not medicine," Spencer explained, his hands smoothing the fabric of his pants over his thighs.
Dave felt his chest lurch slightly at the mention of Spencer's father. He'd met the man during the investigation in Vegas, and though he'd put aside his own feelings in order to remain more detached when Spencer had been unable to do so, his distaste for the man had only grown as he had learned fragments about Spencer's childhood over the time he and Spencer had been together. "We've had this conversation before, I'm not going to leave you. Even if you're sick or permanently injured in the line of duty. That hasn't changed and it won't."
"My parents were married for fourteen years before he left. He thought he knew, that he could stay with her," Spencer said. His face and tone had gone blank even as his body twitched and his hands compulsively clenched. "He promised the same thing, that he wasn't going anywhere."
"And you know that there was more to it than just him deciding to leave." When Spencer's head jerked up, his eyes flaring with anger, Dave continued. "I'm not justifying what he did or saying that he was right to leave."
"A few days before he left, we got into a huge fight. When I was little and they were shouting I would hide in my room, pretend that I couldn't hear them. Sometimes I would sneak outside so that I actually couldn't, even though I had to climb into the neighbor's yard to get far enough away. But, after I understood that she was sick, that she couldn't help some of the things that she saw or did, I couldn't just leave her and let him yell. She didn't understand why he was upset," Spencer said. His hands had latched onto the fabric at the top of his pants. "He'd said it before, when I'd intervened, but I never really listened to him until after he left. That night it just washed straight over me."
Dave waited until he was certain that Spencer wasn't going to speak without prompting. He reached over and untangled one of his hands and took it again, letting Spencer know it was okay to hold on with a short but tight squeeze of his own. "What did he say?" he asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea.
"That I was just like her. That I was so smart but I couldn't see that I was going to be crazy just like her, maybe even worse. That he'd be doing everyone a favor if he just had both of us institutionalized before we had a chance to really hurt someone." Spencer fell silent even though his fingers were digging into the back of Dave's hand.
It took a few moments of Dave to respond, first to bite back all of the profanities he wanted to shout at the man who had fathered Spencer, and then to ask why Spencer hadn't told them this when they were investigating his father. The first wasn't helpful and the second was plain enough. "I'm not your father, Spencer."
Spencer nodded, his shoulders still tense. "I know."
"We'll figure this out. You don't have to do this alone," Dave said. "I'm not going to let you do this alone."
Spencer didn't respond to that but eventually loosened his grip and pulled his hand away. "Are we okay?"
Dave found himself nodding despite being pretty sure that neither of them fit under the definition of okay. "Yeah, we're good. But we can't let that happen on a case again, once was more than enough."
"Right, once was enough," Spencer agreed. He got up and pulled his bag over his head, leaving it next to his side of the bed as he disappeared down the hallway.
A few minutes later Dave could hear Spencer rustling around in the kitchen and the coffee maker starting to percolate. He rubbed his hand against his forehead, the same hand that had been holding onto Spencer only a few minutes ago. He thought he would feel a little better about the situation if he wasn't pretty sure that Spencer had just lied to him about his headaches only happening on a case once. Between that and the revelations about Spencer's father, Dave was starting to wonder if the things that Spencer kept to himself ever ended, and how much they actually did share in their relationship.
Written for Angst Bingo; Prompts: Emotional Abuse, Headaches, Secrets, Serial Killers
Summary: Dave discovers that Spencer has been hiding things when things nearly go disastrously wrong on a case.
Content Notes: References to mental illness, discussion of emotional abuse of a child, discussions of murder (non-graphic), references to drug addiction, discussion of medical practices (non-graphic). PG-13.
Author Notes: References to Revelations, Memoriam and Corazon, takes place around mid-season six.
On AO3: Xanax Won't Cut It
Dave closed the front door, taking the extra moment to glance around his sunset-lit neighborhood with both resignation and suspicion before locking the door, making sure the deadbolt was secure and activating the electronic security system that both Morgan and Garcia had assured him was the best on the market. With Garcia's 'upgrades', she'd assured him that it was much better, and while Dave had learned not to doubt Garcia it didn't actually make him feel safer. Not tonight at least.
He wandered through the house, stopping to set his bag down in his office as he checked the windows. Paranoia following a case wasn't an uncommon phenomenon, but it was unusual for Dave to be effected this strongly - strongly enough that he was half-heartedly considering starting to look for a new home, maybe an apartment or anything that was out of the suburbs. Then again, seeing the bodies of seven murdered couples all neatly laid out in the bedrooms of their tidy suburban homes hadn't been the most pleasant thing Dave had experienced recently either. When he reached the bedroom, Spencer perched on the very edge of the bed as he stared down at the hardwood floor where the toes of his mismatched socks were fidgeting ever so slightly.
Dave thought that having seen Spencer almost shot in front of him in the bedroom of a suburban home only a few hours before might have something to do with his current unease and dislike of the home that he'd always found to be quite pleasant.
Spencer gave a slight twitch, his eyes rising to Dave and dropping back down in a quick flash when he realized that Dave was watching him, and one of his hands rose partway before he dropped it back down onto his lap.
Biting back a sigh, Dave walked into the bathroom and unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt before he turned on the tap and used his hands to cup cold water and splash it onto his face. There was nothing like Spencer's occasional uncertainty in their relationship, his reluctance to confront Dave when he knew that Dave was angry - not just upset but actually angry - that had the immediate effect of both dousing Dave's anger and making him wonder what exactly he thought he was doing when had the audacity to fall in love with Spencer Reid.
He looked up to the mirror, the light streaming in from the high window throwing everything into a stark relief, and he watched as water from his face dripped down and snuck under the collar of shirt in small rivulets. As he blinked the remaining water away from his eyes he thought that he looked the same as he had this morning, and the morning before that, and the morning before they'd taken this case. He'd even go as far to say that he looked about the same as he had six or seven months ago, though Spencer would probably point out that a minute change that occurred gradually over a period of time was much more difficult to detect. Which was probably why Dave had allowed himself to fall into complacency, at least in their relationship.
Once he and Spencer had worked out the basic obstacles of their relationship, handled their families and the team knowing, as well as all of their various insecurities that came from a lifetime of issues on both of their parts, Dave had assumed that the worst was now in the past. There would be rough patches, undoubtably, as their job tended to not lead to a quiet mental and emotional life even when it wasn't actively rooting out half-forgotten moments of trauma. But Dave had thought they had navigated each of those as they'd arisen and had come out the other side stronger and more secure in their relationship. Apparently Dave had been wrong about a lot of things.
Dave glared at his reflection and pulled a hand towel down from the rack to pat his face the rest of the way dry. He, on occasion, had a flair for the dramatic; it was part of what made what otherwise might make dull and gory reading about serial killers into national best sellers. But he knew that that line of thinking wasn't helpful, and that no matter how wronged he felt that Spencer had been keeping things from him, it wasn't going to make the situation better. Sure, he could go out there and yell, maybe say something angry and hurtful about how he thought that they were in an equal partnership and that they trusted each other, but that would only drag this out longer and push Spencer away from him. Steadying and calming himself, Dave opened the door of the bathroom and leaned against doorframe.
Spencer hadn't moved from where he was at the end of the bed, only just barely resting his weight like he wasn't sure he should be sitting at all, and the strap of his bag was still looped over one of his shoulders. The only noticeable difference that Dave could see was that Spencer had wrapped his arms up to his chest; not folded in defiance, but pressed tight like he was holding himself together.
Dave pushed away the vivid memory of Spencer stumbling in front of the unsub with his forehead creased with pain and his eyes squeezing shut as his gun faltered. Not certain that his touch would be welcomed at the moment, Dave sat on the edge of the bed, far enough away that they weren't touching but that they were within reach of each other. He settled his full weight and turned so that he could watch Spencer with more scrutiny and intensity than he'd turned on his partner for more than a year.
"How long?" Dave asked, keeping his voice level.
Spencer thought for a moment, his entire body falling still of any restless motion before he turned to Dave, not quite raising his head enough to met Dave's eyes. "Four months, though the intensity has varied greatly," Spencer said, his neck arching as he ducked his head down further.
The first thing Dave noticed was the lack of reassurance that it had never happened on a case before, and the second was that the time frame coincided with when Spencer started wearing his glasses more often. "When were you planning on telling me?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer. He realized after the number of failed marriages he'd already had, he should probably learn not to ask things that he doesn't really want to know. Maybe working for the FBI and BAU had dulled his resistance to seeing and learning things that he might otherwise allow himself to ignore; that could explain a lot about why his relationship with his first wife had seemingly dissolved so suddenly.
When Spencer didn't answer right away, his head rolling to the side as he focused his eyes across the room at the door that led to the hallway, Dave found that he didn't need a verbal answer. There was a growing body of research suggesting that nonverbal communication was paramount in understanding what a person meant, it was research that they put to use every time they interviewed someone, but Dave didn't need Spencer to rattle off the percentages various studies had come up with in order to know what Spencer looking away meant.
"You weren't going to tell me," Dave said flatly. He concentrated on pushing back the flood of remembered anger when he closed his eyes briefly and thought of the unsub swinging around and pointing his gun at Spencer. The only reason Spencer hadn't been shot was because he had stumbled against a small table and was bent forward when the unsub had fired his gun; Prentiss, Morgan, and Dave all firing into the unsub only a second later. Dave didn't have to ask to know that Spencer hadn't told Hotch or anyone else on the team. Even if their relationship had come as a bit of a surprise to almost everyone - Garcia was the only one who had grinned at them from the very start - Dave was certain that if one of them had known they would have told him. Even Morgan, who it had taken a very long and private conversation with Spencer before he'd accepted that Dave and Spencer's relationship was on the up and up, would have at least told Hotch if he knew something was wrong with Spencer.
"There's nothing wrong with me," Spencer said so quietly that he could have just as easily not spoken at all.
Dave's eyes narrowed, surprised that Spencer was even bothering to deny that he had almost been killed earlier that very day. Then again, he'd watched as his own father had denied that he had all the warning signs of lung cancer for years before going to a doctor. "I think it's pretty clear that something is wrong," he said, trying to decide the best way to approach this. Spencer was wary of doctors and hospitals even when it was just for their routine physicals.
"No, I've been to the doctor. I've been to four different doctors. There is nothing physically wrong with me that they can find." Spencer looked up suddenly, meeting Dave's eyes for the first time since Dave had rushed to him after the unsub had been taken down. "They've done two CT-scans, an MRI and a full battery of cognitive and eye tests."
Unable, or unwilling, to stop himself, Dave reached out and took Spencer's hand. His chest ached as he thought of Spencer going through all of those tests and hospitals by himself. The last time Spencer had strep throat it had taken significant pleading and maneuvering on Dave's part before he could get Spencer to agree to make an appointment. Even then, as they'd sat in the waiting room and listened for Spencer's name to be called, Spencer didn't give him a single statistic on diseases being transmitted from other patients or the average wait time based on the type of hospital and region it was located in. Instead he had just hunched in and shifted restlessly until Dave had almost been ready to cancel the appointment and take Spencer back home with him. Dave thought of Spencer sitting in another waiting room all by himself, knowing that no one knew where he was, and running the statistically possibilities that he had a brain tumor or something equally horrifying and potentially life threatening.
Dave didn't bother to say that Spencer should have told him, should have let Dave come with him, because whenever something was really important Spencer insisted on doing it alone. Dave had heard horror stories, which was how he thought of them even if they hadn't been presented that way, from the other team members on how Spencer had managed to isolate himself and cope with the fallout of being tortured by Tobias Hankel alone. And then, in stories that were understated and only told in pieces and whispers, Dave had learned how Spencer had dealt with his resulting addiction to dilaudid on his own and had managed to stay clean for years. This impression had only been reinforced a little over two years ago in Vegas, before his relationship with Spencer had began, when Spencer had been so convinced that his father had killed a child and Spencer had lied to them in order to remain in Vegas to investigate by himself. Fortunately Morgan had known instantly what was up and had stayed behind with a nod from Hotch and Dave had stayed back as well. In the end, Dave was glad they'd stayed because there was no accounting for what might have happened to Spencer if he'd gone down that line of questioning by himself, even though Spencer had pushed most of the investigation by himself.
"Spencer," Dave started even though he wasn't sure what he could say to help. It wasn't like he could tell Spencer that the doctors tests were wrong.
"They suggested that my headaches might be psychosomatic," Spencer said quickly, interrupting before Dave could say anything more. "I couldn't…"
Dave gently squeezed Spencer's hand, grateful that he hadn't pulled away from him even when he was visibly distressed. "You couldn't what?" he asked, hating that he found himself using the same voice that he automatically used when interviewing traumatized victims.
"I couldn't tell you that. I didn't want you to think I was crazy," Spencer finished. His eyes fell closed and a brief tremor passed through the hand that was holding onto Dave's.
"I wouldn't think that, not just because you've been having migraines," Dave said, knowing all too well how afraid Spencer was that he'd inherited his mother's illness.
Spencer sighed and pulled his hand away as he opened his eyes again. "I know that. I do. I keep telling myself that this is different."
"Different then your mother?" Dave pressed. As much as he wanted to let the conversation drop and go pour himself a scotch and let Spencer settle in with a stack of books or something, this was something he couldn't let happen again. Not if Spencer was going to be out in the field.
"Yes. I don't remember what her first symptoms were, I was too young to understand that she was sick until later, and even then it wasn't until I had started high school when I was ten that I understood the implications of her illness. My father called her crazy, when they fought. Said that she was a lunatic, insane. I never believed him until I did the research, even though most of those terms are outdated or have meanings that are in reference to law, not medicine," Spencer explained, his hands smoothing the fabric of his pants over his thighs.
Dave felt his chest lurch slightly at the mention of Spencer's father. He'd met the man during the investigation in Vegas, and though he'd put aside his own feelings in order to remain more detached when Spencer had been unable to do so, his distaste for the man had only grown as he had learned fragments about Spencer's childhood over the time he and Spencer had been together. "We've had this conversation before, I'm not going to leave you. Even if you're sick or permanently injured in the line of duty. That hasn't changed and it won't."
"My parents were married for fourteen years before he left. He thought he knew, that he could stay with her," Spencer said. His face and tone had gone blank even as his body twitched and his hands compulsively clenched. "He promised the same thing, that he wasn't going anywhere."
"And you know that there was more to it than just him deciding to leave." When Spencer's head jerked up, his eyes flaring with anger, Dave continued. "I'm not justifying what he did or saying that he was right to leave."
"A few days before he left, we got into a huge fight. When I was little and they were shouting I would hide in my room, pretend that I couldn't hear them. Sometimes I would sneak outside so that I actually couldn't, even though I had to climb into the neighbor's yard to get far enough away. But, after I understood that she was sick, that she couldn't help some of the things that she saw or did, I couldn't just leave her and let him yell. She didn't understand why he was upset," Spencer said. His hands had latched onto the fabric at the top of his pants. "He'd said it before, when I'd intervened, but I never really listened to him until after he left. That night it just washed straight over me."
Dave waited until he was certain that Spencer wasn't going to speak without prompting. He reached over and untangled one of his hands and took it again, letting Spencer know it was okay to hold on with a short but tight squeeze of his own. "What did he say?" he asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea.
"That I was just like her. That I was so smart but I couldn't see that I was going to be crazy just like her, maybe even worse. That he'd be doing everyone a favor if he just had both of us institutionalized before we had a chance to really hurt someone." Spencer fell silent even though his fingers were digging into the back of Dave's hand.
It took a few moments of Dave to respond, first to bite back all of the profanities he wanted to shout at the man who had fathered Spencer, and then to ask why Spencer hadn't told them this when they were investigating his father. The first wasn't helpful and the second was plain enough. "I'm not your father, Spencer."
Spencer nodded, his shoulders still tense. "I know."
"We'll figure this out. You don't have to do this alone," Dave said. "I'm not going to let you do this alone."
Spencer didn't respond to that but eventually loosened his grip and pulled his hand away. "Are we okay?"
Dave found himself nodding despite being pretty sure that neither of them fit under the definition of okay. "Yeah, we're good. But we can't let that happen on a case again, once was more than enough."
"Right, once was enough," Spencer agreed. He got up and pulled his bag over his head, leaving it next to his side of the bed as he disappeared down the hallway.
A few minutes later Dave could hear Spencer rustling around in the kitchen and the coffee maker starting to percolate. He rubbed his hand against his forehead, the same hand that had been holding onto Spencer only a few minutes ago. He thought he would feel a little better about the situation if he wasn't pretty sure that Spencer had just lied to him about his headaches only happening on a case once. Between that and the revelations about Spencer's father, Dave was starting to wonder if the things that Spencer kept to himself ever ended, and how much they actually did share in their relationship.
Tags: