Over Your Shoulder

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

06/05/2020 07:42 hours. David Rossi’s House, Virginia.

Spencer cracked open his irritated eyes and blinked to clear his vision. He mentally cursed himself for falling asleep with his contact lenses in. His hair clung to his lashes. He attempted to reach for his face to brush his hair out of his eyes but was quickly stopped. It took him a moment to recognise the cold steel of handcuffs around his wrists. Spencer glanced up at the wall, directly facing him. It was a familiar pale coffee colour. He gently wet his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He looked down at himself. He was still wearing the clothes from David’s dinner party. At some point, the upper three buttons of his shirt had been unfastened, exposing his bruised neck. His hands were cuffed behind his back. His Converse shoe had been removed, revealing a single UFO patterned sock. Spencer attempted to sit up but struggled to find his balance. A pair of hands gripped his upper arms to support him into an upright position. Spencer groaned, his body aching as though he was one big bruise.
“Easy, kiddo. You're going to be sore for a while.” Spencer furrowed his brow and lifted his eyes to meet David’s gaze.
“What's going on? Why am I cuffed?” David frowned.
“You don't remember, Spencer?” Spencer closed his eyes and shook his head. “You put Luke's gun to your head yesterday, then had a seizure. JJ came to talk to you in here and found you had your gun. You expressed feeling suicidal but hadn't made any plans. Then you fell asleep.” Spencer cocked his head in confusion.
“So you restrained me?”
“Actually, you asked JJ to. You told her you felt safer this way as you couldn't hurt yourself or anyone else. She agreed to do it. You fell asleep right afterwards. You had a nightmare and fell off the bed in panic. We managed to bring you out of it, but you had another seizure. You've been out since.” Spencer squinted, his eyes feeling gritty and rough.
“Could you please release me? I really need to take my contacts out. Sleeping with contact lenses increases the risk of keratitis, an eye infection. It can scar the cornea, ultimately leading to the need for corneal transplant.” Confusion was etched into David’s features. “I could go blind, Dave.” David looked at Spencer with uncertainty. Spencer sighed.
“Dave, if it would make you feel better, you can hook the cuffs up in front. It'll not be easy, but I'll be able to get my lenses out. I'll keep my hands where you can see them.”

David reluctantly released the cuff around Spencer’s left wrist. Spencer shook his hands to regain his circulation and brought them in front of him, offering his wrists to David. David looked uncertain as he stared at the bruises and red welts in Spencer’s skin.
“It's okay, Dave.” Spencer gave David’s forearm a reassuring squeeze and a small smile. David pulled the open cuff to Spencer’s free wrist and locked it in place with a click.
“Do you need to use the bathroom, kid?”
“Please. I need to, well, go. And I need to wash my hands. Is my bag still in the lounge?”
“No. We brought it in here. Come on.” David pulled the wheelchair over to the side of the bed and applied the brakes. David placed one hand in the small of Spencer’s back and grasped his forearm with the other, keeping him steady as he swivelled on his foot and slumped into the wheelchair. Once in the bathroom, Spencer was assisted to stand in front of the toilet. He frowned, realising that David was standing rigidly behind him. He turned his head to the side as though to look over his shoulder but did not meet David’s stare.
“Are you really going to watch me take a piss?” asked Spencer with an exasperated sigh.
“Yep.” Spencer simply shook his head and fumbled awkwardly with his zip to pull his member out and relieve himself. He could feel David’s eyes on the back of his head. Tucking himself into his trousers when he was done was a little more difficult with the handcuffs, but he succeeded.  He grabbed the wash basin with both hands and shuffled across. Spencer twisted the faucet for the hot water and allowed it to crash into the basin. He cupped his hands beneath the stream of water, the heat instantly stinging his palms. Using a generous amount of soap, Spencer meticulously scrubbed every part of his hands and fingers, aware that David was still watching him. Spencer glanced up into the mirror to meet David’s reflection. 
“When did I become your prisoner, Dave?” asked Spencer, reaching for his left eye to remove the offending contact lens.
“Yesterday when you put a gun to your head and told JJ that you considered all the risks and statistics of every method to kill yourself.”
“I did also state that it was purely theoretical.  If you had been through even a fraction of what I've gone through, what I'm currently experiencing, you would understand why I feel the way I do. I've literally had my career ripped out from under my feet -ahem- foot. I go to sleep every night and can feel their hands on me. I feel them raping me. I couldn't stop them.” Spencer sighed, dropping his contact lens into the container of solution on the side of the basin. “I had to lie there and listen to the grinding of my bones, feel every twist of the screwdriver loosening the fixation in my leg. I had to lie there in the smell of infection. I wasn't allowed to speak or see. A simple tape gag didn't last long enough for them, so James sewed my mouth shut, then gagged me for good measure. I had to feel every puncture of the needle as he did it.” Spencer slipped his right contact lens out and placed it in the container.
“Right now, my eidetic memory is a curse. It forces me to relive those days in their basement. I unfortunately relive the train crash, the hostage situation in the prison… Their BDSM dungeon too. You can't even begin to understand how I'm feeling, but if you had experienced what I have, you would want it all to stop, too. You would want to end it. My mom is gone. Outside of the BAU, I have no one. I'm no longer part of the team. What do you really expect me to do? If you haven't noticed, I don't exactly fit with social norms. Making friends isn't something that comes easily to me. I have a debilitating life-long condition and now a disability to boot. Pun not intended.” Spencer's shoulders slumped, the weight of his words evident on his thin frame.
“Don't you get it? Everyone I look up to leaves me. My father. Gideon. Hotch. The people I love the most die. Maeve, my mom. You guys will leave me next. After all, why would you stay in contact with someone you no longer work with? You have no reason to associate with me.”
“You're still a consultant to the BAU, Spencer. You might not be a field agent, but you're still part of this team. We know that you've been abandoned consistently throughout your life. That's not going to happen with us. I know you feel like a prisoner right now, but trust me when I say it's because we're trying to protect you from yourself. If we could reverse all of this, we would.” 
“I'm sorry for everything, Dave. I just want the memories to quieten. When the memories come, they crash into me like a tidal wave and make the urges so loud, so unbearable.”
“I understand that, Spencer. You need to reintroduce your safe methods again. Speak to Dr. Dove. Break things down into manageable chunks. You have a lifetime of trauma to sort through with any kind of clarity.” Spencer visibly swayed in place, his head bowed. “Are you okay, Spence?”
“Yeah. The fatigue comes on out of nowhere and can be overwhelming. Unfortunately, anaemia will do that.”
“Anaemia?”
“Yeah. My clotting factor was massively reduced due to the heparin they were injecting me with after surgery. It caused me to severely haemorrhage from my nose and aspirate. Unfortunately, anaemia is an effect of that.”  Spencer looked back up at David's blurred reflection in the mirror. “So, what's the play here? You keep me in chains until I relent?”
“The team is staying here. You're on suicide watch for 72 hours. We'll release you when you no longer present a danger to yourself.”
“Okay.” Spencer's response was breathy and quiet, but audible nonetheless. “Could I lay down for a while? I feel like I'm going to pass out.” David pushed the wheelchair in close behind the genius and grasped his shoulders to ease him down into the chair. Spencer’s limbs felt heavy.