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Elephant’s Memory

Summary:

Elephant’s Memory

Episode 16, Season 03 of Criminal Minds (which I don’t own)

 

Part eight of my ‘rewriting all Spencer Reid focused episodes and adding whump’

Notes:

Trigger Warnings

Bullying of a 12 year old
Violence

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Elephant’s Memory

Episode 16, season 03

 

“Reid, talk to me!” Morgan exclaimed loudly, the younger man’s reckless and rude behaviour was starting to get to him and he didn’t know what was wrong.

 

After insulting Owen Strange’s father, the principal at the school, honestly? There were probably others who Hotch just hadn’t informed him of. Spencer had burst into the room like a little ball of fury, threatening to explode at the smallest interference.

 

Hotch had meant well by sending him away, he didn’t want him to end up getting his ass kicked.

 

Derek was sitting on Owen Savage’s desk, flipping through some of his books while Spencer wandered around, not paying too much attention. 

 

“The mirror is covered,” Reid suddenly said, his voice sounding strange from the long while without a sound.

 

“Self-hatred?” Derek asked and Spencer nodded. “Likely, yeah.”

 

They started checking and profiling every single item on the walls and shelves, Reid making small comments about jocks and stereotypes.

 

“Reid,” Derek said firmly, but he knew Spencer would ignore him if it wasn’t about the case.

 

Morgan had kept a close eye on the younger agent all day, trying to find his triggers and maybe discover what the hell was wrong. So far? So far bullying seemed to be the common detonator. 

They all believed it was the death of their last case. The unsub who kidnapped Lindsey Vaughn… the unsub was just a kid and killed right in front of him after all, but Derek was beginning to doubt that, that was the reason.

 

-

 

Spencer really hated cases like these, he hated cases where he related as much as he did to the bad guy… the unsub. 

Owen Savage was constantly bullied and tormented at school - Spencer really related to that. 

 He just hated knowing that the one person he related most to at a crime scene was the serial killer, what did that tell him about himself? 

 

“Kid.” Morgan slid off the desk and pulled out a chair for the other man to sit in. Spencer ignored his request, only turning to another poster on the wall, observing it, categorising it.

 

Couldn’t Derek just leave him alone?

 

“You said I was a High School jock,” Derek suddenly said and he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay. He closed the novel in his hands and quickly turned around to face the older agent. “I was, but not at first,” Derek said, ending the sentence, interrupting Spencer’s wild faring thoughts. Their eyes met and he felt a tingle running down his spine.

 

“My freshman year, I was five foot three. I weighed a buck twenty soaking wet, so trust me when I tell you, I got my ass kicked every day,” Derek said, keeping his gaze on Spencer, who stared back in disbelief and took a step closer.

 

“So the following summer, I hit the weights. And I got lucky, I grew six inches. But it was never about vanity Reid… it was about survival.”

 

Something so bare, so sincere was in Derek’s gaze and Spencer decided to walk over and sit on the provided chair right in front of him. Why did he suddenly feel like letting out his deepest secret? The day his life turned to hell? He didn’t know but seeing those deep, brown, beautiful eyes and the slight smile quivering on his lips, that was enough for him to give in.

He took a deep breath and slowly took the older man’s hands in his. 

“I was in the library and, um…” he started, looking at their connected hands to make the words stop sticking to his throat.

 

“Harper Hillman came up to me, and she told me that, uh… Alexa Lisbon wanted to meet me behind the field house…” he said quietly, his voice, quickly noticing the inevitable waver to his words as the memories threatened to assault him.

 

“Alexa Lisbon was like, easily, the prettiest girl in school,” he added, hoping for a little smile but Derek just looked at him, projecting nothing and everything at the same time, telling him without words, that he was listening

 

“So what happened? Alexa wasn’t there?” Derek asked with a pitying gaze in his eyes.

“Ah, I wish, '' Spencer replied with a self-deprecating laugh. 

 

Derek turned his head slowly to the side, his body language showed intrigue but his eyes showed a brief flash of personal pain. Spencer couldn’t imagine how anything close to this could have a personal meaning for Derek. He chose to momentarily ignore it though, else he wouldn’t have the strength to continue the story.

 

“No, she was there,” Spencer slowly continued, his eyes looked sad and Derek hated the broken look in them. He wanted nothing more than to take away the pain and hold the genius close.



FLASHBACK

 

“Alexa?” 

Holding three books tightly under his arm, the only twelve year old Spencer Reid had made his way to the High School’s field house.

He saw the girl in question and a rush of relief ran through his veins. She didn’t trick him… she showed up.

Maybe helping her with homework would help make him less of a victim for the torment… it was worth a try.

 

He saw as Alexa emerged from the shadows and slowly walked towards him. Something didn’t feel right.

 

Paranoia , his brain provided but he wasn’t sure he believed it. 

He suddenly felt an immense urge to turn around and run, but it was too late. She would tell her friends that he was a wuss, a coward and then he’d never escape from the violent predators running the school halls. 



“Hey Spencie,” Alexa softly said, grazing him with a brief smile as she walked over to stand in front of him. 

 

Was it a look of smugness on her face? 

 

“Hey Alexa…” he said slowly, feeling the hairs on his neck rising.

 

“Is everything okay?” he began, taking a discreet step backwards. 

“Is it homework? I can help!” He tried but she stopped his incoming rant by putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked upwards and met her eyes.

 

“Oh kid, no… there’s someone I want you to meet,” she said as she gave a small smile and turned around. 

 

That apparently was a sign… a signal. The entire football team burst out from behind a shed and the young boy froze in fear.

“Please don’t” he begged when two strong arms grabbed his shoulders, another did the same to his legs as they ripped him away and threw him hard onto the dirty gravel.

 

He felt his shirt tear and hated how his first worry was the money he didn’t have to buy a new one.

 

“Hey freak! Don’t you dare touch my girl!” a jock yelled and Spencer frowned. 

 

She was the one with a hand on his shoulder- A sharp punch to his eye broke him out of his thoughts, the pain quickly making the young boy cry out.

 

“Please, I didn’t, please don’t hurt me” he begged as they all walked over above him and stared down with a predatory look. He quickly pushed himself up to his knees and elbows, practically dragging his body away from the insane teenagers but a sharp sting in his stomach stopped his pursuit. A kick landed hard and he felt the sharp intake of breath from himself as his ribs were pushed inwards.

 

Another jock was quick to kick his stomach, making him fly back to the ground, squirming and folding his body tightly together in pain. 

 

He coughed as dirt and gravel got in his mouth, mixing with the blood from when he inevitably bit into his tongue. 

He never understood what he’d done to those kids… why they felt the need to kick him again and again with their trainers, making the small boy gasp out in pain. He curled further in on his small body, hiding as well as he could away from the world. 

 

Time felt so slow… 

Kick after kick bore into his stomach. He felt his ribs aching and his head burning as the seemingly endless torture tormented his world. 

He had closed his eyes, squeezing them shut and refusing to open and look at any of them.

More than 20 students were watching and capturing his pain and suffering for their own entertainment and no one interfered.

 

They laughed, mocked and kicked until it apparently got boring. Teenagers weren’t known for their patience after all. 

He hurt too much to move when the torment finally stopped. He felt the blood running down from his broken nose and his clothes sticking to both blood and sweat. 

He was in absolute agony… even his father had never hurt him so bad in one sitting.

 

He might not be religious, but right then he prayed. Prayed that they were done and would leave him alone. 

 

His prayers weren't answered.

 

Suddenly he felt strong hands gripping his pants, pulling them down and throwing them too far away. Voices once against exploded into his consciousness and he felt a sob leave his throat.

He wanted it to be over and stay that way. He didn’t have the energy to keep doing this… to keep surviving this.

 

The tears continuously fell from his red eyes, mixing with the gravel beneath him and the blood from both his nose and lip. He gathered the last bit of energy, kicking and twisting his way out of the older students’ arms but other than the occasional weak hit, it had no effect. 

His shirt was ripped off and his boxers were thrown to the side, which only made the tormentors laugh louder.

 

Hands were everywhere and he wanted nothing more than to escape, his heart was beating faster than ever, his head spinning and his thoughts were whirling out of control. 

“Stop…” he whispered but laughs were the only reply.

 

Too many noises, too much light, too much warmth and too much dirt. His senses were screaming at him, screaming to make it stop and he felt the sensory overload threaten to send him into a complete breakdown. He couldn’t let it though… he had to stay strong, stay alive. At least for a little while longer.

 

“Stop.” 

 

He began begging as strong hands grabbed beneath his shoulders, hauling his body across the dirty ground. His elbows and knees scraped at the touch from the passing rocks and he felt so incredibly exposed.

 

He was naked, naked and at complete mercy to his nightmares.

 

“Stop”

 

He kept trying but nobody listened. He didn’t know if they were controlled by fear or amusement… honestly, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 

He kept his eyes shut, couldn’t look them in the eyes without breaking down completely and he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He’d rather die than sob loudly in front of those jerks. 

 

Underneath his body, the gravel changed to grass and he suspected that he was getting dragged across the football field but he couldn’t figure out why. He would be in clear view compared to before, wasn’t that just plain stupid?

 

Maybe they were done? Maybe they had something else planned?

He just wanted it to be over.

 

Someone grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his body. He cried out in pain at the unnatural angle which his shoulder was forced into and even more when he felt his bare back being pushed against a metal pole… a scorching hot metal pole. 

Ropes were tightly bound around his hands and feet, keeping him securely against the goalpost.

 

“St- stop!” “It burns!” 

“Stop! Please, stop!” 

 

He began pleading… begging them to help, begging them to stop, but he was all alone. Nobody cared, nobody listened. 

 

He could hear the loud laughs and slurs that people were throwing at him. He felt their hands poking and prodding at his thin, malnourished and now naked body as he was totally at their mercy.

 

Despite his best efforts, a single kick made the dam break. A sob left his throat and the jock crouched down in front of him with a sick grin on his face.

He harshly grabbed Spencer’s chin and held him tightly in his filthy hands, staring straight into his tightly shut eyes. 

 

“Aww look, the baby is crying! You think he wants his momma?” The jock mocked and he curled as much into a ball as he could.

 

Suddenly the laughs quieted down and he heard an unfamiliar growl emerge from the crowd. Someone was here?

A teacher? No, it didn’t sound like someone he knew. 

He didn’t dare look, maybe the new person would be worse than the others, the only thing he knew was that he couldn’t take any more… he was done.

 

“What the hell is going on here?!” A deep voice suddenly yelled, breaking through the laughter, demanding an answer.

Spencer felt a shred of hope blooming in his chest.

 

“Oh it’s just a joke man, chill out,” Harper said, most likely with a flirtatious smile… he didn’t dare look.

Most of the flock turned to leave until only the mystery guy and a few jocks remained. He cried out when another kick hit his stomach.

 

He opened his eyes slowly when he heard the sound of a thump. He saw the dark, mystery man pushing the remaining jocks to the ground, staring at them like they were the devils themselves… his mother would probably call them that.

 

“Shit man, you’re insane,” the awful student yelled before pushing himself off the ground to run away from the field, leaving the young Spencer and the man alone. 

 

The exact moment the guys were gone, Spencer broke down, his mask shattering into a thousand small, unfixable pieces.

 

“No, no, no” he repeated again and again as he saw the man slowly getting closer.

He turned to the side and finally let himself sob as the pain started crashing through his veins. He tried to curl in on himself but quickly found his arms restricted, the strain on his shoulder sent a new wave of pain through his body.

 

 “Oh kid…” the deep voice whispered, trying to comfort him from afar. It was a weird thing… no one ever bothered to try and help him so why this guy? Did he want something? 

Spencer once again peeked through his eyelashes, quickly darting away as much as he could with his wrists tied around the pole.

 

“Please don’t hurt me,” he begged when the dark man stepped closer. He didn’t look like a student but he most certainly wasn’t a teacher… he looked like a jock, but he sounded kind.

Spencer didn’t know what to believe.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’m going to untie your wrists, find your clothes and get you to a hospital kiddo…” the mystery man said quietly and he felt another sob leave his painful throat.

 

Could he be telling the truth?

No…

He couldn’t let his guard down

 

“I- please don’t- please don’t hurt me” he repeated as the man slowly squatted down behind him, gently untying his red wrists.

As soon as Spencer felt the lack of restrain, he wrapped his arms around his knees and felt his entire body shake. His ribs were like a stabbing pain but he didn’t have the energy to focus on it… it was too much, everything was too much. 

 

The man took off his jacket and wrapped it around him, saving the last shred of his dignity. Closing it and zipping it up, he whispered “I got you kid, you’re going to be okay.”

As much as Spencer didn’t trust anyone, didn’t dare to believe the stranger, he finally, fully opened his eyes, looking directly into the stranger’s.

The man was young, probably in his twenties but he didn’t look familiar at all… not in the very least.

 

“You’re not from here… you won’t hurt me?” He whispered, turning his head slightly to the side, looking at the musculous man who had had every chance at beating him up but chose not to.

 

The man gently helped him up, holding the sides of his chest instead of the clearly dislocated shoulders.

“What gave it away?” He asked quietly and Spencer was torn between wanting to rant, explain statistics or hurrying away before the man could attack him. 

But… the man did just save him.

 

“Your accent…” he whispered slowly, observing the other’s response, preparing himself for the hit he was sure would come. He accepted the arm holding him upright, not wanting to fall on his nose again. He stumbled on his feet and let out a gasp of pain as they slowly began walking.

 

“You seem to be around 20 and your accent suggests that you’re from a place in or near Chicago.” It helped, talking had always been his best way of distracting himself from pain both from his parents and classmates.

 

“You seem to have a strong moral code so if you were older, I’d say you were a policeman, but could be something else,” he said slowly, looking at the grass in front of him.

“Your lack of violence towards me suggests that as well…” he mumbled quietly but the other man caught it and gave him a sad smile.

 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ever hurt you,” he replied and Spencer still didn’t fully believe him… After all, his mother never wanted to either but she didn’t realise it. 

 

“Did you know that Chicago has a total of almost 2.8 million residents? More specifically 2.792 million whereas Las Vegas only has around 297,326 residents?” Spencer looked at the older guy with a slight smile and in return he got a small laugh. 

 

“That’s- how did you know that?” The other guy replied and Spencer had never heard that tone before… he sounded almost impressed?

 

“You’re totally right. You know a lot about Chicago I see!” He said and Spencer nodded. 

 

“You’re not mad?” He asked confusedly and the other man ruffled his hair in a sort of caring gesture? Spencer was slightly confused.

 

“Why would I be mad?” He asked gently and Spencer was happy for the easy questions, the ones he didn’t need to think about.

 

“Oh! Everyone knows that rambling equals pain and it’s okay, it makes sense, I can be really annoying and I deserve to be shut up,” Spencer replied, the answers seeming totally correct to him. He even missed the look of pain as the man heard his reply and saw his unaffected face.

 

“People never have the right to hurt you, kid,” he mumbled slowly as they walked behind the fieldhouse and the man saw the dirty clothes, ripped to shreds, all around him on the ground.

 

“Of course they do?” He simply said with a confused frown. He began gathering the remains of his clothes and the other man wanted nothing more than to get him something new, but he couldn’t just take a half naked kid to a clothing store… that wouldn’t end well.

 

“Do you have some more clothes in your locker?” He asked instead and the seemingly, very smart boy looked at him, the confused look now practically permanent on his bruised face.

 

“No? It’s okay though, I saved up a little and the price of electricity has gone down so I can afford something new next month!” He said excitedly and despite the man’s happiness at the small smile on the abused boy’s face… his words kept worrying him. 

 

He got dressed in the dirty clothes and walked next to the stranger towards his car, before the young boy suddenly stopped and stared at him with his eyes wide open.

 

“I- I can walk home, it’s okay!” He quickly said, not wanting to be a bother. The man raised his brows and Spencer immediately feared that he had said something wrong.

 

“I’m here till tomorrow. It’s totally fine if you don’t feel comfortable riding with me to the hospital but it’s this or an ambulance… kid, I saw the bruises, remember?” 

 

Spencer took a deep breath, looked at the ground and slowly nodded.

 

“I can’t afford a hospital…” he whispered and the other man put a finger under Spencer’s chin, making him look up.

“Don’t worry about that, okay? I’m insured and if anyone asks, you’re my…” he thought for a second and huffed a small laugh. “-Adopted little brother.”

 

“Okay…” he whispered and the Chicago man smiled. “Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

FLASHBACK END

 

“So yeah…” Spencer said slowly, letting the memories fade a bit to the background. He hated that he accidentally had repeated all his exact words from that awful day… now Derek really knew how screwed up his childhood had been.

 

“When the guy dropped me off at home that afternoon, my mom hadn’t even noticed my absence, but he saved my life that day.” A small tear slid down Spencer’s cheek and he quickly looked the other way. “I didn’t even get his name,” Spencer smiled slightly, a regretful look storming in his eyes. Years worth of pain, bubbling to the surface.

 

Derek looked shocked and Spencer quickly turned away from him.

 

“Oh kid…” Derek mumbled, a strange tone in his voice… it was that weird recognition again.

 

“Besides, the only thing I regret about that day is not getting to say thank you.” Spencer shrugged and walked towards the window.

 

“Hey Reid?” Derek asked and Spencer turned back around. “Did I ever tell you why I became a cop?”

 

Derek leaned against the desk, looking at him like… yeah, he didn’t really know honestly. Derek had a new look on his entire face, a look Spencer hadn’t seen in many, many years.

 

Spencer nodded and turned back towards the window. “Because of your dad, of course,” he replied, knowing the answer by heart.

He was looking at the landscape outside the house. The school in the distance and the many houses with their small backyards surrounding it. His memories were still uncomfortably clear in his mind.

 

“No,” Derek said and Spencer furrowed his brows as he remembered the exact moment where Derek had told him that.

 

“No? But you told me-“ he tried to say but was stopped as Derek walked over and stood behind him, wrapping his arms around the younger man who stiffened for a second before leaning into the embrace.

 

“I was on a two day vacation once… I was 20 and mad at the world. I was still mad at Buford, mad at myself and honestly? I was still mad at my dad for dying,” he began, turning the younger man towards his chest. He smiled when a small blush appeared on Spencer’s cheeks. 

 

“I went to Las Vegas to gamble, be stupid and forget the world. Merely driving around aimlessly before parking in a High School parking lot to check my phone,” he said, looking at Spencer’s confused eyes. 

 

“I heard a scream, kid,” he said, removing the tear running down the genius’ face.

 

“You-“ Spencer stuttered, his throat suddenly so incredibly dry. 

 

“You told me I reminded you of a cop because of my strong moral code and then proceeded to give me statistics of the inhabitants of Chicago and Las Vegas,” he said while gently holding the younger man’s face in his hands. 

 

“At the hospital, you gave them a fake name, so I couldn’t report the abuse you accidentally had told me about,” Derek continued and a blush spread across Spencer’s cheeks. 

 

“Arthur Doyle, was it?” Derek said with a laugh and Spencer felt the embarrassment spread through his body.

 

Spencer looked at Derek and felt another tear slip from his eye. 

 

“I’ll never forget the look in your eyes when I found you at that goal post…” Derek said, putting a hand under his chin like he had done all those years ago.

 

“It was really you? How- I-” Spencer struggled to think, overwhelmed by the tingling running through his body.

 

“Pretty boy? It was you, you’re the reason I turned my life around… You saved me too,” he mumbled, running a finger over Spencer's jaw. 

 

Spencer didn’t know what to say so he wrapped his hands behind the other man’s neck, seeking approval. A slight smile and a nod was all it took.

 

He pushed Derek towards him, their lips meeting in the middle in a moment of pure longing and desperation. 

He could taste the slightly bitter coffee from earlier, the sweetness from the powdered sugar on the donuts and Derek… pure Derek. His cologne calmed his nerves and he found himself leaning closer into the other man’s embrace.

He’d wanted this for far too long and it was better than he ever could’ve expected.

He leaned further into Derek’s embrace and felt the warmth from the other man, wrapping around him like a security blanket. 

 

“Spence,” Derek whispered, his breath tingling softly against his lips, sending another wave of comfort and excitement through his whole system. 

Hands held around his waist and he let himself lean further into the kiss, practically devouring the other man. 

Spencer slowly pulled away to get a breath of air, immediately missing the warmth and softness of his lips.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, letting their foreheads rest together, deep brown eyes meeting his own.

 

Derek knew he didn’t mean this, for listening, for the kiss, for feeling the same… No he meant ‘thank you’ for everything.

 

“No…” Derek whispered, running his thumbs over Spencer’s slightly swollen lips, a permanent smile lingering on his face.

 

“No, I’m the one saying thank you.”

 

Derek closed the distance again and they let themselves disappear in the moment. Wrapped in each other’s embrace, the sweet sensation of safety washed over them both as they held on close like their lives depended on it.



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