Monster

Coffee Cup

Spencer had broken his morning routine; getting a cup of coffee, running his hands through his hair, and then taking a shower, with the coffee cup, during his stay in the Pen. Usually waking up at 7:00, drowsy, he now woke up 5:00 sharp, his eyes would snap open from whatever nightmare he had. He would get out of bed, automatically remaking it, just like he had to in the cell, and he would go to the bathroom to strip, getting the shower ready, instead of stripping in his room like he used to. He was uncomfortable with people seeing him again, always scared that someone might come up behind him.
Loud 80's hairband music played in the background, he kept it on 24/7, unlike his usual operetta, this kept his mind from wondering, the sounds were to loud not to focus on. He didn't enjoy the noise, but they were Gideon's, and he thanked the older man for having such a, well, taste for ear splitting music. The records were the first thing that Gideon gave him, knowing, probably sensing, that this field would make him need them.
In the shower, he would keep the door closed and locked, his shower curtain closed, expect for at the back, where he had a perfect view of the door. He never closed his eyes, even when the water ran down his face. He just kept his eyes locked on the door. Shampoo and conditioner would occasionally get in his eyes, but he wouldn't shut them, he would curse the stinging. If it got really bad, he would punch the tile of the shower, leaving his hand a bloody mess, but he just washed the blood off, cleaning it when he got out, and wrapping it. Today was not one of those days.
He listened to the hun of the music from outside the locked door, as he stepped out, again looking around, and began to dry off. His clothes in plain sight, he began to get dressed. His hands shaking as he buttoned the navy blue dress shirt. Sure, he didn't have to be at work today, but he never went a day without showering and getting new clothes on.
Today will be a better day. He thought opening the door, the track changing as he felt all the steam and heat leave. He shivered, walking into the kitchen barefooted. His hair was still wet and left a train behind him, he shivered even more as his feet hit the ice cold tiles. He began to prep the filter with coffee grounds, his mind on the music, as he filled the coffee pot with water.

Derek Morgan, one of Spencer's closest friends , that he hadn't seen much longer than the time that he was in prison, stepped out of the elevator, a cup of Spencer's favorite coffee in his hand. As he walked through the hall, looking for his "Pretty Boy's" room, he heard the hum of the music. This was unusual, since when he last seen Spencer, he would never have music loud, or even be awake at this hour. He looked at his watch, 5:57. But then again, he thought, Baby Girl did tell me he changed since... he couldn't bring himself to say that the youngest member of the BAU had been imprisoned.
He walked closer, the music muffled by the door. He smiled, yet got worried by the song "Pour Some Sugar on Me," playing. He got nervous, maybe someone else was in there? I mean.. maybe he changed A LOT. He shook his head, this was his Pretty Boy, even if he had rougher edges around him. He opened the door, using the key he always kept on him. Secretly, he would wear it as a necklace and told anyone who asked it was for good luck, but in reality, it was just for him to be closer to the boy genius.
He walked through the door, the music, if possible got even louder, it seemed to suffocate the room. How did he not have a noise complaint? Oh, yeah, his only neighbor was a nearly deaf elderly woman. He smiled to himself thinking of all the times she had cooked for him, and a faint of nostalgia hit him. He saw her, pulling him into her room.
"You visit him a lot," she winked, "just promise me you won't hurt him." She smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "I won't ma'am." He smiled.
As he walked through the living room, the music got louder, it was actually staring to hurt his ears. He looked around, everything seemed to be in place besides some books on the table. The couch looked like it was starting to form dust. He smelled coffee, and looked down at the one he brought. He felt a little silly, and then that stoped when he felt queasy.
He stood in the door way of the kitchen, finally finding the source of the music, and he turned it off. Spencer shrugged it off, thinking it was changing tracks. Derek noticed his back to him, as if he didn't hear him come in. In his hand, was a coffee cup, his hand ran through his thick, wet, curly locks. Derek had never seen him look like this. His hair was everywhere. Spencer ran his hand to his face, feeling stubble. I'll shave later, he thought, knowing he wouldn't, he was always scared that if he put that razor to his face, he would do something worse than just nick his cheek.
"Pretty Boy?" Derek whispered, his eyes filled with shock.
Spencer, fear filling his system, tensed. Fear was replaced with adrenaline. In one smooth motion, he smashed the coffee cup, the biggest, and well sharpest piece in his hand. Blood ran down and dripped onto the title from the shards.
Derek stood scared, genually scared. He watched as Spencer turned, a crazed look in his eyes, that the older man had never seen before. He held his hands up, seeing the shard in Spencer's hand, he knew that Spencer intended to use it.