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Da di bei yao huang zhe.
Tian kong tu ran hei le
Wo de xin ye bei zhen sui le
Xia yi miao wa jie le
Lei dui hi cheng le he.* ~Lin Jun Jie, Ai Yu Xi Wang
Spencer Reid had always been an oddity amongst his peers. He was always younger than other people in his grade levels and in his classes. He was always isolated, always singled out. He was used to it. He hated the way life dealt him such an unfair hand, but he was okay with it.
Spencer learned to find peace in situations he couldn't control. But this was something completely different, something he'd never learned to control. He'd never experienced a sexual assault, and no amount of reading could have prepared him for this. No amount of reading- and he did a lot after learning about Chicago- could have prepare him for the violence of the violation. The shock and the fear that flooded through Spencer hadn't been expected.
He was ashamed, even as he struggled through the initial penetration. How would he be able to face Derek again? How would he be able to look his lover in the eye and tell him he was sorry for this moment of infidelity?
His body arched as the man dug nails into slender hips and finished. Hot sperm filled him and the tears marched steadily down his cheeks in a devastating flood. He hadn't even let Derek touch him so nakedly, never allowed him to enter him without a condom.
He'd been betrayed so violently by this man, he'd allowed himself to be used. He was dirty and violated in all the ways that mattered.
Curled in on himself, he cringed as the other man pulled out of Spencer and left him. Laid in filth, covered in blood and bodily fluids that didn't belong to the man he called his lover. Fluids that he never wanted to feel, never wanted to endure bathed his filthy body.
Alone, Spencer choked on his sobs and tightened his arms around himself. He needed to mourn what had just happened, but he needed to be home; to be with Derek. He wanted to sob and cry and rage against the concrete, because there was nothing else to do. And he wanted to be alone, but Derek was there.
He pushed himself painfully to his feet, and slowly fixed himself: tucked his lower half into his boxers and pants, and squirmed in disgust as rapidly cooling semen and blood slid from his body. Derek was too ill-equipped to handle this. He was trapped in his own pain, in his own violations, no less demeaning but hopefully much less violent.
''Derek,'' Spencer whispered as he took his first steps, crying harder as the full weight of what had just happened hit him.
-.-.-.-
Derek Morgan was stretched out on the simple couch that belonged only in Spencer's small, but well lived-in home. There was comfort and peace in the oversized and understuffed couch; in the thick and leathery air of the living room Spencer used for his personal library. There was no television: Spencer couldn't bring himself to that level of monotonous drivel. He had high regards and the utmost respect for the books he memorized through simple reading.
Spencer had never been this late coming home, and Derek couldn't stop the flutter of fear at the back of his spine, the thing that had always told him when something was wrong, the instincts developed by Carl Buford. He couldn't stop the shiver despite his best efforts.
He had just allowed himself to go find Spencer when the shock of a lifetime forced itself through Derek's body. His lover, his beautiful and precious baby boy walked into his own apartment in tears and blood. His left shoe was missing and his jeans were off center and ruined- tell-tale signs of what had happened. His shirt was torn in all the wrong places.
And all Derek could think was: 'He should have been protected. That's my pain.'
He stood and approached carefully, completely aware of the total aversion to touch this would create in the already skittish doctor. ''Come on Spencer,'' Derek ordered in a painfully thin voice. ''We're going to the hospital. Now.''
''No!'' Spencer practically shrieked in fear and revolt. He looked around sharply and backed away from Derek, his hands were curled around his stomach protectively. Fear radiated through every pore and fiber of Spencer's slender body. ''No,'' he repeated in a much calmer, but no less reassuring tone. ''Nothing happened Derek. I just... I just fell.''
''Pretty boy,'' Derek whispered.
''No, Derek I'm okay. I just fell and I'm going to take a shower and go to bed.''
''You're not letting him get away with this.''
''And what is this, Derek? T- This is an accident, c-clumsy me. N- Nothing else.''
''You're not going to pretend this didn't just happen,'' Derek growled as he stalked forward, Spencer was trapped between the wall and Derek's intimidating form.
''No- Nothing happened Derek,'' Spencer sobbed, pulling his arms close to his slender body.
''You were attacked, Spencer,'' Derek muttered sensibly. ''You need to go to the hospital and you need to be checked out. You have to report this.''
''You never did!'' Spencer shouted as he folded into himself. His long body slid down the wall as he curled into himself, protecting what was left of his fragile psyche.
''And I never had somebody pushing me to do something about it either,'' Derek growled. He punched the wall in anger and rage and a plethora of other emotions he couldn't explain. ''I love you, Spencer.''
''Th- Than l- leave me alone! L- Let me shower and go to bed!'' Spencer cried desperately.
''I can't,'' Derek whispered as he kneeled before his, unsurprisingly, broken lover. ''Give me your badge.''
Spencer didn't say another word. In fact, he didn't do anything but tighten his arms around his slender body and cried.
-.-.-.-
Derek Morgan pulled the doctor to the side before she entered the small room with Spencer curled into as small a ball as he could manage. He licked his lips and bowed his head as he struggled to get the words out. ''He... he was sexually assaulted. I need... I need a rape kit run on him,''
He would have been appalled at his inability to form words had this been a different situation. But this was Spencer Reid, his powerfully fragile and impossibly beautiful lover laid out on that hospital bed.
''Without his consent, sir, I don't have to,'' she answered softly, a reassuring arm on Derek's arm.
''This is evidence that needs to be collected for an FBI case.''
''Sir, without his consent, I'm afraid the answer is no.''
''Doc, that's my lover in there,'' Derek growled as he pointedly turned to Spencer's shivering form on the blankets. ''That's my lover. And he's... he's not himself and he was hurt. Please, we need the D.N.A. from the rape kit. I want that son of a bitch behind bars. Find a way to make it happen.''
''Morgan,'' the quiet voice of Aaron Hotchner sounded, effectively silencing anything else the black man might have said. ''If the victim is incoherent or in a state of mind where he is unable to make rational decisions, the rape kit can be run for preventative measures to protect the victim.''
''He's not a victim!'' Derek growled. ''That's fucking Spencer Reid!''
''You're right,'' the doctor acquiesced. ''If he seems to be less than coherent, I will run the kit. Considering the fact that he was brought against his will, there's not much we can do beyond basic care.''
''I have his power of attorney, in the event he can't make decisions,'' Hotch explained gently.
''Very good. If you don't mind, I'd like to actually treat him today.'' With that, the doctor strode past the two men into the small room.
Derek watched as she said something before Spencer sobbed and nodded brokenly.
"You have to trust him, Derek. Spencer can do this. He can take care of himself. And you know it."
"But... Why'd it have to be this?" Derek asked. He turned dark eyes to Hotch. "Why Spencer?"
Derek didn't want to admit it, but he was terrified. He wasn't strong enough to handle this.
"Derek, Spencer needs you now. He needs you now more than he's ever needed you before. And you have to be there for him, whether you think you can be or not. You have to be. He's not going to be strong enough to deal with this on his own. And you have to keep him from that damned dilaudid," Hotch grumbled. His face was a stony mask of calm, but his body belied his feelings: his arms were crossed close over his chest, and his hands were fisted. He wasn't still, swaying side to side with too much energy. He couldn't handle this as much as Spencer or Derek. "You're strong enough, Derek. You really are."
-.-.-.-
It seemed like a small eternity before the doctor returned, her small form composed in the wake of such violation. She nodded to both men, wrote on her clipboard, and spoke: "He consented to the rape kit. It'll be run shortly. Until then, Derek Morgan, you can go in and see him."
"Hey Spencer," Derek breathed as he walked into the room. There was no more blood, there were no more disheveled clothes, no more obvious signs of rape. He was curled into himself on the bed, holding his stomach painfully tight, his body as small as possible, hidden beneath the sheets and a blanket. Which was an amazing feat for somebody so tall.
"Why'd you... why'd you make me do this?" Spencer asked, his voice angry and cold and small.
"Because. You need to tell somebody. You have to ensure he didn't have anything. That he didn't hurt you more than what we can see."
"I have to be tested for HIV again in six weeks. And again six weeks after that."
"I know," Derek sighed. He'd dealt with more than one rape during his beat cop days. "I know and I’ll be there too, baby."
"Don't. Don't call me that. I'm not happy with you," Spencer growled. He straightened out enough to turn to look at his dark lover.
"Let me tell you about Carl," Derek sighed. He wrapped his large hand around Spencer's protectively clutching hands and just held them. "I've never told anyone about it. Because it was nobody else's business. But you and me, baby, you and me are different. And you got a right to know."
-.-.-.-
Derek Morgan stretched in the locker room, pulling the muscle shirt over his head. The pads from the gear did little to sooth his weary muscles at the end of a practice session, and he knew what he needed. He needed a hot shower, but he wouldn't be given peace for it.
Carl Buford, who insisted on the boys calling him Carl or Coach only, wanted some alone time, some one-on-one mentoring to help Derek along.
The sooner he accepted it, the sooner it would be over. The sooner he got into the shower, the sooner Carl would visit and leave. He didn't want to undress, he didn't want to get into the shower, and he didn't want to feel the older man against him, within him, above him. He didn't want to feel another man so intimately.
At least in the showers after practice his tears could be disguised.
He pulled his work-out pants off and stepped out of his boxers, incredibly vulnerable. He felt exposed, and he knew Carl was some where close, watching. He could feel dark eyes tracing his body. Waiting for Derek to get into the water before he made his move.
The water was warm and relaxing; and that was helpful when it came to the actual penetration. At least there was something comforting in the experience. And he had the blessing of being able to disappear into his mind, to focus solely on his mother, who he would give everything in the world for. The sooner Carl visited him, the sooner he could go home.
''Good practice, Derek,'' Carl's voice was soft and menacing in the small locker room. ''You looked very good out there.''
He shivered as he stepped further into the shower. Tears were heavy and hot in his eyes as he turned his back to his mentor, his coach; the only man who had ever touched him, who had ever expressed sexual curiosity. Derek shivered in disgust and fear and shame and a plethora of other emotions he couldn't name. He knew that Carl wouldn't let him off of the hook today, not without some kind of return payment.
Carl's weight pressed Derek against the wall, and his world narrowed to this man, this encounter. As he was touched and teased and reduced to nothing more than physical stimulus and reaction, Derek let his mind drift, his thoughts trail to his mother. Fran Morgan was powerful and strong enough to work two jobs, to support he and his sisters. She never cried about it being too hard, she never complained about not wanting to go to work or cook or clean. She never complained about how hard it was. Derek couldn't either.
Derek was doing everything he could think of to get himself out of their neighborhood, to get himself into college and follow in his father's proud footsteps. There was so much he needed to do, so many goals he needed to reach. Football star or police officer. Either way, he wasn't going to leave his family here.
He would stop this from happening again, to anyone else.
A grunt and disgust filled him as he fell forward into the shower wall. A groan of relief fled his lips as he fell to his knees. Tears poured heavily and he listened to Carl pulling his used condom off. The older man always used one.
''I'll see you tomorrow,'' Carl murmured heavily. His heavy hand patted Derek's shoulder, and he had to have purposely avoided seeing the teen flinch.
Derek wanted to scream as he leaned into the wall for support. It was hard to breath, to think, but his silent tears had to be enough. He had nothing else, no other support. If he didn't allow Carl to use him, than he would have nothing; he would be a banger, hoping and praying for a miracle that would never happen.
He curled in on himself and let his tears fall down the drain. When he left the youth center, he would be big, brave Derek Morgan, man of the house. He couldn't let his family see the damage that was done to him, the weakness and struggles he bore.
All Derek could do was shower; wash Carl off of him.
-.-.-.-
"Excuse me," a kind nurse murmured softly, placing her smooth hand on Derek's shoulder, almost suggestively. "We need to ask you to leave while we do this. For Dr. Reid's privacy."
"No," Spencer said firmly, suddenly. He turned his dark eyes, tear-filled and desperate, to Derek and silently begged him to fight.
"I'm not leaving. You heard him."
"Dr. Reid, are you sure you want him in here while we..." she trailed off. Trying to respect Spencer's privacy.
"This is my lover. I'm not leaving him alone."
"Mr. Morgan?" the doctor grumbled as she walked into the room, wearing gloves and carrying a sterile packet. "How'd I know you would be the one causing problems here?"
"I'm not leaving him."
"That's fine. Nurse, please help Dr. Reid get ready. Mr. Morgan, if you move from there, I will have you forcibly removed from my hospital."
Derek nodded and waited until Spencer was in position at the edge of the bed. The nurse re-draped the sheet over Spencer’s knees, offering him a modicum of privacy as the women collected the necessary evidence. His long hand was clinging tightly to Derek’s, almost painfully. He didn’t care though. Spencer needed him to be strong here. Spencer turned his head and closed his eyes, tears leaked from his clenched eyes, and Derek laid his head down, rubbed his hand through lanky chocolate waves, and promised him it would be okay.
“Dr. Reid, we’re all done. You can scoot back up in the bed now. I’ll have somebody come in to help you clean up in the bathroom.”
“No. Can… can I go home now?”
“Why don’t you let us help you get cleaned up first?” the doctor asked softly. The sternness she had with Derek was gone, replaced with gentleness, kindness, and a softness that spoke volumes of her maternal bedside manner.
“I’ll take care of him.”
“Are you sure?” When Derek nodded, the doctor turned to Spencer again and asked him softly, “Do you want Derek to help you get cleaned up? I’ll have a nurse bring you some scrubs to wear home.” Spencer nodded and turned to Derek, pulling his legs up to his chest.
“Derek,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken and so desperate. It hurt to hear. “Derek, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t baby. You’ve nothing to apologize for. That bastard is going to pay.”
“Why… why’d you tell me about… you know?”
Derek closed his eyes and looked away from his lover before he spoke. “Because I know what it’s like, Spence. The shame, the fear. The regret. The guilt. I know what it’s all like. And you don’t have to deal with this alone. I’m here Spencer. I’m here for you.”
“I’m… I’m not the same anymore,” Spencer whispered.
“I know. I know. And that’s okay. I still love you. I’ll love you no matter what.”
This time, when Spencer gave into his tears, he allowed Derek to hold him.
Dan, ming tian shi hao de, wo men yao jian ding zhe. Ai rang wo men bu fang qi huo zhe. Bu qing yi fang qi ming tian yao xu geng duo yuan wang, zhuang man le yong qi jiu geng you li liang.** ~Lin Jun Jie, Ai Yu Xi Wang
*The earth shook
The sky suddenly darkened
My heart was shaken to pieces,
A moment's devastation
Tears, accumulating in a river.
**But tomorrow will be better. We must stay strong. Love allows us to not give up, to continue living. Don't give up easily, tomorrow, make many more wishes; filled with greater courage, so much more stronger than before. ~Lin Jun Jie, Love and Hope