Fanfic: Five Petals AH/SR DH x-over
Sep. 26th, 2009 05:19 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
reideffect.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
criminalxmindsName: Jacqie
Age: 20
Location: US
Favorite TV Show: CM
Other Shows Watched: Dollhouse
Favorite Quote: All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.
Favorite Color: Octarine
If I was a criminal, I'd be... A thief.
Title: Five Petals
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Warnings: No spoilers, AU: Crossover with Dollhouse
Summary: He knows what it's like to be afraid of his own mind. Sometimes fears are more warranted than you may wish, and sometimes the only solutions are just as unwelcome.
Someone's kissing him, holding on, and somethnig in the back of Spencer's mind tells him that it's alright, that he wants it to be happening, that it's happened before more times than he's been able to count. It speaks louder than the frightenedd awareness, lack of recognization that makes him want to pull back, break it, and in the end he just stays there, frozen, eyes wide. When the other man pulls back his expression and eyes are sad.
It knocks his mind back into place for brief seconds, and once again he remembers everything. Remembers... "Aaron.." The word is almost an apology and he turns away.
"Did I fall asleep?"
The question is low, not quite concerned, not quite anything,but the girl standing nearby doesn't even blink. "For a little while." She tells him, and she sounds no more interested than he is.
"Shall I go now?" the dance continues, and Charlie looks at her in almost curiousity, if she didn't know better.
"If you'd like."
Charlie makes his way out of the room, past the man standing by the doorway. Smiles at him as he moves past.
The man watches him go, face not quite as much of a mask as he'd like. Raw and broken in a way, window to wound. "I still don't know about this. I..."
The girl rolls her eyes at him, more focused on the computers than anything else. "Look, she made the deal special. You're lucky you get to be here even, so shut it 'Ron. How else would you have come up with the money?"
"I could have..."
She laughs almost bitterly as she types, works on the next imprint she's going to need. "Can't quite see what you brought in here as a Handler." It's a joke, harsh and she knows it, but it gets him out of her hair.
"There has to be some other way, we just need to..."
"There isn't," Spencer tells him, quiet, kisses his cheek to take advantage of the moment of clarity.
"Something could happen, it's dangerous, I don't..."
"Not much left to lose right now, is there?" the smile is thin and almost self-loathing, and his eyes are wet. Both of theirs are. "I trust you though. Always."
When they wake up, he screams bloody murder when he sees him next to him, flees like an animal that's been burned.
"What are you doing?" Ron asks him, gently. Kneels down next to him to look at the piece of paper and Charlie hands it over unashamedly.
Tells him, "Drawing," and notices the frozen expression of the older man. Charlie's own question wavers and he asks, simple as a child, "Do you like it?"
Ron looks down at the fractal spiral and picks up the paper, looks into Charlie's eyes like there was something there that he could see. "Very much. Can I have it?"
"If you'd like." He folds it, puts it in the pocket of his suit and watches from afar as he moves to do something else.
"It's perfectly safe, you have our word on that." the woman in the suit tells them, all business and not so much reassurance. "We're even willing to emply you for the duration of his contract, as his handler. There are some risks involved with this, of course. We've had reports from out west-"
"I'll do what I have to." He says tiredly, soft like Spencer could hear him in the next room. Like right now he would understand if he did.
"Then you'll be officially charged with his protection." She tells him.
They change his clothes and his name, cut and bleach his hair and give him contacts. Everything short of plastic surgery, and even before they put him into the chair, Spencer doesn't recognize him.
He keeps the same late nights, watches 'Charlie's' vitals as he sleeps, and goes to the chambers when they spike, fear. He doesn't bother sneaking, knows that the cameras are there.
Knows what his defense is.
He gets the pod open withhout cutting his hand, and finds the yougner man awake already, staring almost wildly, curled into a ball.
Reaches out, "Spencer-" coming off of his lips like reflex, and the boy doesn't so much as blink. It leads him to find the words, like an incantation or a computer command, holds his hand and meets his eyes. "Everything is going to be all right."
He calms visibly, eyes locked onto his and gripping his hand back reflexively, answer to the mantra, "Now that you're here," just a bit too high.
"Do you trust me?" the question is asked only because it has to be, because he can't leave this unfinished. The hand around his loosens but doesn't let go, and the expression on the boy's face is almost serene.
"With my life." He says, and Aaron breaks.
Age: 20
Location: US
Favorite TV Show: CM
Other Shows Watched: Dollhouse
Favorite Quote: All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.
Favorite Color: Octarine
If I was a criminal, I'd be... A thief.
Title: Five Petals
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Warnings: No spoilers, AU: Crossover with Dollhouse
Summary: He knows what it's like to be afraid of his own mind. Sometimes fears are more warranted than you may wish, and sometimes the only solutions are just as unwelcome.
Someone's kissing him, holding on, and somethnig in the back of Spencer's mind tells him that it's alright, that he wants it to be happening, that it's happened before more times than he's been able to count. It speaks louder than the frightenedd awareness, lack of recognization that makes him want to pull back, break it, and in the end he just stays there, frozen, eyes wide. When the other man pulls back his expression and eyes are sad.
It knocks his mind back into place for brief seconds, and once again he remembers everything. Remembers... "Aaron.." The word is almost an apology and he turns away.
"Did I fall asleep?"
The question is low, not quite concerned, not quite anything,but the girl standing nearby doesn't even blink. "For a little while." She tells him, and she sounds no more interested than he is.
"Shall I go now?" the dance continues, and Charlie looks at her in almost curiousity, if she didn't know better.
"If you'd like."
Charlie makes his way out of the room, past the man standing by the doorway. Smiles at him as he moves past.
The man watches him go, face not quite as much of a mask as he'd like. Raw and broken in a way, window to wound. "I still don't know about this. I..."
The girl rolls her eyes at him, more focused on the computers than anything else. "Look, she made the deal special. You're lucky you get to be here even, so shut it 'Ron. How else would you have come up with the money?"
"I could have..."
She laughs almost bitterly as she types, works on the next imprint she's going to need. "Can't quite see what you brought in here as a Handler." It's a joke, harsh and she knows it, but it gets him out of her hair.
"There has to be some other way, we just need to..."
"There isn't," Spencer tells him, quiet, kisses his cheek to take advantage of the moment of clarity.
"Something could happen, it's dangerous, I don't..."
"Not much left to lose right now, is there?" the smile is thin and almost self-loathing, and his eyes are wet. Both of theirs are. "I trust you though. Always."
When they wake up, he screams bloody murder when he sees him next to him, flees like an animal that's been burned.
"What are you doing?" Ron asks him, gently. Kneels down next to him to look at the piece of paper and Charlie hands it over unashamedly.
Tells him, "Drawing," and notices the frozen expression of the older man. Charlie's own question wavers and he asks, simple as a child, "Do you like it?"
Ron looks down at the fractal spiral and picks up the paper, looks into Charlie's eyes like there was something there that he could see. "Very much. Can I have it?"
"If you'd like." He folds it, puts it in the pocket of his suit and watches from afar as he moves to do something else.
"It's perfectly safe, you have our word on that." the woman in the suit tells them, all business and not so much reassurance. "We're even willing to emply you for the duration of his contract, as his handler. There are some risks involved with this, of course. We've had reports from out west-"
"I'll do what I have to." He says tiredly, soft like Spencer could hear him in the next room. Like right now he would understand if he did.
"Then you'll be officially charged with his protection." She tells him.
They change his clothes and his name, cut and bleach his hair and give him contacts. Everything short of plastic surgery, and even before they put him into the chair, Spencer doesn't recognize him.
He keeps the same late nights, watches 'Charlie's' vitals as he sleeps, and goes to the chambers when they spike, fear. He doesn't bother sneaking, knows that the cameras are there.
Knows what his defense is.
He gets the pod open withhout cutting his hand, and finds the yougner man awake already, staring almost wildly, curled into a ball.
Reaches out, "Spencer-" coming off of his lips like reflex, and the boy doesn't so much as blink. It leads him to find the words, like an incantation or a computer command, holds his hand and meets his eyes. "Everything is going to be all right."
He calms visibly, eyes locked onto his and gripping his hand back reflexively, answer to the mantra, "Now that you're here," just a bit too high.
"Do you trust me?" the question is asked only because it has to be, because he can't leave this unfinished. The hand around his loosens but doesn't let go, and the expression on the boy's face is almost serene.
"With my life." He says, and Aaron breaks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}