Finding Solace

To Know You're Alive

"Your memory is a monster; it summons with will of its own. You think you have a memory, but it has you."

-John Irving

Spencer looked down at his trembling hands as he slowly unfurled his fingers from their iron grip. He let out a strangled sob as he caught a glimpse of the item that lay in his palm.

This was his lifeline....his salvation.

Or maybe it was his road to ruin....his descent into darkness.

Either way, he believed it would be his escape.

Spencer clung to the vial in his hand, marveling at the seductive liquid it held within.

Dilaudid.

He was captivated by the drug he'd tried so desperately to stay away from. This mixture of chemicals had almost destroyed his life once before. But now the genius feared that the drug might be the only option he had left to try and save it.

He didn't know how it had happened.

No...that wasn't entirely true.

He had an idea of how it had happened.....

Last night....

"How are you feeling, Aaron?" Spencer asked, his voice calm and even. Aaron was sitting on the couch, Spencer on the chair across from the coffee table in their living room.

His lover had been withdrawn lately, ever since Peter Lewis had drugged him. He'd witnessed his team gunned down; he'd witnessed Spencer gunned down. Sure, Aaron knew that it was a hallucination now, but in the moment he had been petrified that his whole world was crashing down around him, threatening to take him down as well. He'd prayed for it, actually.

When Aaron realized it had not been real, he was flooded with emotions of relief but he still could not get the pictures of his colleagues out of his mind. They were more than coworkers, they were his family. He couldn't get the images of his family lying bloody and dead out of his mind.

It was like he had Spencer's fucking eidetic memory.

When the recollections were too much for him, Aaron would dull them by indulging in a drink. He'd say it would just be one, but one would turn into two, two into three....before he knew it he would be drunk and the pain and visions would dim for a while.

But they always came back.

"I'm fine, Spencer." He'd already had a few glasses of Jim and was feeling more relaxed, loose.

Maybe he'd had more than a few.

Spencer looked to his partner. He was stoic as ever, yet the genius noticed a fire in his eyes. "You don't look fine. Please, Aaron, open up to me. Let me know how I can help you."

"Spencer, I don't want to talk right now. Right now, I just want to forget. I just want to let go." He narrowed his eyes as he took in the worried expression on his lean lover. "I want to let go with you. I want to feel you."

Spencer knew this was just another substitution, like the drinking, for Aaron to avoid talking about his feelings. He was a man of action, after all, but sex wasn't going to fix this situation. Alcohol wasn't going to fix it, either. He knew Aaron knew this.

"Aaron, I don't think that's a good idea right now—"

Suddenly, Aaron was right in front of Spencer's chair. He grabbed the younger man and pulled him into his arms, kissing him with a feverish need. He had to feel Spencer, to know he was still alive and with him; that they were both alive.

Spencer gave into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the elder man's neck and carding his fingers through the dark locks of his hair. He would give him this kiss, this reprieve from the present for just a moment.

Aaron opened his mouth and licked at Spencer's lips asking for entrance. When it was allowed, he deepened the kiss, his tongue entering his lover's mouth as he savored the taste of him. Spencer moaned at the intrusion, allowing his own tongue to fight for dominance in their heated dance.

That's when it all went terribly wrong.

Aaron wanted.....no.....needed to take Spencer. He demanded to feel every inch of him and fill him to excess with his essence. He needed to know they were alive. He pushed Spencer down to the ground, forcefully, and straddled his knees pinning him to the floor. The sudden movement stunned the lithe man for a moment before he came back to his senses.

"Aaron, wh-what are you doing?" Spencer asked, a bit of shock evident in the small tremor of his voice. He took in a breath and calmed his nerves, "Stop. This isn't the time for this. We need to talk about things, not push them under the rug and pretend like nothing's wrong."

The older man began nuzzling at his lover's neck, breathing in his scent and slowly raking his teeth up to the other man's jaw line.

"Please, Aaron, stop this..." Spencer pleaded as tears began to well up in his eyes threatening to be released.

Aaron rose up just enough to look into Spencer's hazel orbs. He put a finger over the doctor's lips to silence him, leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Shhh, Love. I just need to know you're alive." With that he gently traced his fingers down the young genius' slender neck, chest, and stomach until they arrived at his waist.

He then proceeded to unbuckle Spencer's belt.

The doctor's body trembled beneath the unwanted touch.

....................

Spencer came out of the memory as a shiver flowed through his body.

Last night had not been a good night.

After it was over, Aaron had fallen asleep on the couch content in knowing his lover was alive and well. Spencer was left feeling like he was dying inside.

This morning, Aaron had acted like nothing was wrong. It was like he was pretending it didn't even happen. It shocked the genius just how ok Aaron seemed to be concerning his actions from last night. Spencer, with his damned memory, couldn't just pretend everything was fine. He couldn't get the image of his lover looming over him out of his head.

Aaron's attempts to erase his false visions of pain and death were well on their way to making those visions a reality for Spencer. He had to do something to cope with the betrayal, didn't he?

He needed something to get him through the day.

He did.

Or maybe he was grasping at whatever straw he had to in order to justify what he was about to do. Logic be damned.

So now here he was...sitting in front of the all too familiar house where he used to go to score dilaudid. Anything to try and ease the pain of what his partner, his heart, had done to him.

He knew, logically, that he should just leave Aaron and let him sort himself out, but he also had a very strong feeling that if he left Aaron would spiral even more. He couldn't do that to him, or to Jack.

Jack.

Thank god for Jessica.

She had started watching Jack more when it became evident that Aaron needed some time to work through the issues that arose out of the Mr. Scratch case. She picked Jack up for school every morning and kept him after until either Aaron or Spencer could get off work. She also kept him when the team had to leave on a case.

He loved Jack like he was his own son. They were a family, a happy one at one time, and Spencer would do whatever he could to get them back to that.

With that thought, Spencer pocketed the cold, glass vial, started the car, and drove back toward a broken home that he was determined to fix.

If he could get through to Aaron, show him that everything would be okay; he knew they'd be able to work through their issues.

He just needed to get Aaron talking.

He just needed to scratch the surface.