Sanctuary - Chapter Sixteen

[drabbles_by_v]

Title: Sanctuary
Author: drabbles_by_v
Characters/Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, team
Rating: FRAO/R
Word Count:  4,435
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine and I'm making no profit by playing with their characters. 
Warnings:  AU, slash, assumes knowledge through season 5.
Summary:  A haunted and despairing Aaron Hotchner finds solace and love in an unexpected form: a young priest named Spencer Reid.  Inspired by a kink!meme prompt found in chapter one.
Author's Note: *apologizes profusely*

Previous chapters here.


Aaron stood in front of the bathroom mirror looking at himself.  The stitches had been out for three days.  Nine red lines, straight as a knife’s edge, scattered over his chest, were all that remained.  If he wasn’t careful, they could still tear open.  The doctor had ordered him to another week of rest before he would clear him for office duty, and another week after that before he would clear him for the field.  Aaron already felt like clawing through the walls, he couldn’t imagine what one more week was going to do to him.  He rolled his shoulders and reached up to rub his upper arms.  Normally he tried to do a routine of push-ups in the mornings, nothing much, but enough to keep his muscles toned.  His arms were itching from the inactivity.  His legs, his abs, his whole body was burning with the need to move.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t find what was missing, he couldn’t help his team, he couldn’t feel safe in his own home-

Aaron could feel the anxiety swelling in his chest and he gripped the counter, bowing his head.  Relax, he told himself.  Need to relax.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, counted to five, and then out through his mouth.  He heard Spencer’s voice in his mind explaining the technique.

“The process of mindfulness meditation begins by focusing on a central rhythm, like breath, and then attending to thoughts as they wander before returning back to the original focus. During mindfulness meditation, a person should not try to keep their thoughts from wandering, but instead, let them wander at will and attend to each new subject nonjudgmentally as their thoughts and focuses shift over time…”

He focused on his breath.  Breathe in, count five, breathe out.  Breathe in, count five, breathe out.

Foyet.

The knot came back to his stomach.

What do you feel? Spencer’s voice coached.  Discern the individual feelings.

Helpless, angry, violated.  As Aaron identified each emotion, the knot loosened a little.  But not all the way.  He was missing something.

Breathe in, count five, breathe out.

Embarrassment.  Shame.  Humiliation.

There it was.  He was humiliated to be caught so easily in his own home, shamed by his weakness, too embarrassed about his injury to let Spencer look at him.

How can I let him stay with me?

Aaron’s breath turned suddenly ragged and he felt his heart speed up.

Broken broken broken-

His hands were shaking.  He could feel his focus fading and the spiral of fear go deeper and deeper into his belly.  What would Spencer think of him if he never healed properly?

I have to tell him, I have to tell him to leave.

Aaron lifted his head and stared into his reflection’s eyes.  He looked haunted even to himself.  The flashbacks had slowed, but it wasn’t helping the nightmares that woke him up every night.  He hadn’t told Spencer about those yet, but he knew the other man suspected.  There was no way to miss the darkening circles under his eyes.

The nightmares weren’t about the attack, no.  Spencer was helping him with those memories.  The nightmares were about finally being with Spencer again and realizing he was too injured and damaged to make love to him.  Sometimes in the dreams Spencer was too repulsed with the scar to become aroused, so Aaron couldn’t even pleasure him.  In the worst of them, when Aaron tried to kiss him, Spencer turned his head away in disgust.

Of course he knew that Spencer would never turn away from him, he was too kind, and Aaron wasn’t so far lost to his illogical fears to think that Spencer didn’t love him anymore.  But he couldn’t shake the lingering feelings of shame and dread.

Aaron blinked.  His mind had wandered.  He gently refocused himself to his breathing.

Breathe in, count five, breathe out.

---

Aaron was reclining on the couch when the door opened.  That would be Spencer back with the groceries.  He kept flipping through the folder.  “Hey,” he called.

No answer.  He heard the five-digit code being punched into the alarm system and more footsteps.  “Spencer?”

Still silence.  Aaron frowned and pushed himself up and looked over the back of the couch.  His blood ran cold.

Foyet was standing there with a gun to Spencer’s head.  Even as Aaron opened his mouth to shout, he knew it was too late, and Foyet pulled the trigger.  Spencer’s body crumpled to the floor and Aaron followed it with his eyes, feeling like he was watching the whole thing in slow motion.  He tried to get up but he couldn’t, for some reason he couldn’t move, and then he looked down at himself and saw why.  He was bleeding again, every wound gushing blood that was pinning him to the couch.  He could see Spencer’s body and he screamed and screamed and screamed while Foyet laughed and laughed and laughed-

Aaron opened his eyes with a gasp and sat up.  He was covered in a cold sweat and shaking.  He looked around.  He was in bed.  He had come here to relax and think, the last day before he went back to work, and must have fallen asleep.  He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to shake away the lingering images from the dream.

He swung his feet over the side of the bed and walked out into the main room.

Spencer was sitting at the table, very much alive.  Relief washed over Aaron.  “Hey,” he said.

Spencer looked up with a weary smile.  “Hey,” he said.  He was holding what looked like a hand-written letter in his hands.  “How was your nap?”

Aaron frowned.  “I’ve had better.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said.

Aaron shrugged.  “What’s that?” he asked, walking over.

Spencer swallowed.  “It’s um…it’s a letter, from Nathan.”

“Nathan Harris?”

Spencer nodded.  “He was convicted on three counts of second-degree murder.  His lawyer tried for involuntary manslaughter by means of insanity but it didn’t work.”

“He wrote you to tell you that?”

Spencer shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “He wrote to thank me.”

Aaron walked over and looked over Spencer’s shoulder at the sprawled, messy handwriting.  “To thank you?”

Spencer nodded.  “He says that he came to me because he thought I could help him, but when I couldn’t, he started coming back because he knew that I was the only one would turn him in, and that he forgives me, and is grateful to me for making sure he couldn’t kill again.”

Aaron gripped Spencer’s shoulder.  “Are you okay?”

Spencer shrugged.   “I knew that he wanted me to help him.”

“Still.  He’s thanking you for turning him in.”

Spencer nodded again.

Aaron sighed.  “Come sit with me,” he said.

“I’m fine, Aaron…”

“Please,” Aaron whispered.

The tone of his voice made Spencer look up.  His eyes widened when he saw Aaron’s face.

“I really need to hold you right now,” Aaron said.  He needed to feel that Spencer was alive, and he needed a reminder why he was about to break his lover’s heart.

---

They sat together on the couch with Spencer leaning carefully against Aaron.  Aaron  kept his arms around Spencer and Spencer had a loose grip on his wrist, slowing moving his thumb up and down.  They hadn’t spoken for a long time.

“I love you,” Aaron said.

“I love you too,” Spencer said.  The smile was clear in his voice.

“I need you to know that I love you.”

Spencer tensed.  “Of course I know,” he said.

Aaron took a deep breath.  “Foyet talked about you.”

“I know.”

“I never told you.”

“You yell at him in your sleep sometimes,” Spencer said softly.  “Talk to him.”

Aaron’s heartbeat sped up.  He didn’t remember any of those dreams.  “So,” he said hoarsely, “So you know why I have to do this.”

Spencer sat up and whipped around.  “Aaron, don’t.”

Aaron wanted to close his eyes when he saw the fear on Spencer’s face, but he forced himself to keep them open.  Spencer had asked one thing of him, that he look at him.

“You need to go,” Aaron said.

Spencer’s mouth fell open in shock.  “Aaron, you can’t…”

“I can’t let you stay with me,” Aarons said.  “There’s a psychopath interested in making me miserable.  The further you are away from me, the-”

“Don’t you dare say better,” Spencer said.

“It’s true,” Aaron said.  “I can’t give you safety, I can’t give you a lover-”

“You don’t know that,” Spencer said, desperate.  “The doctor said-”

“He said might,” Aaron said.

“He doesn’t know for certain!”

“Even so, there’s still Foyet,” Aaron said.  “You’re in danger as long as you’re with me.”

“But…” Spencer said, his voice choking.  “Where am I supposed to go?”

Aaron couldn’t answer.

“Did you forget that I lost the closest thing to a home I’ve ever had because of you?” Spencer demanded.

The younger man was getting angry, Aaron noted.  That was good.  “I didn’t forget,” he said, softly.

“This is all I have, you are all I have!”

“I can give you money for a hotel,” Aaron said.

Spencer flinched.  He pulled away.  “How can you…”

Aaron swallowed.  It was getting hard to keep looking into Spencer’s eyes.  “You asked that I look at you,” he said.  “So this is me, looking at you, telling you I don’t want you here.”

Spencer was the one who closed his eyes.  “But what will you do?” he asked.

“Me?”

Spencer nodded.  “Who’s going to take care of you?” he asked, his head bowed.

“I’ll take care of myself,” Aaron said.  He reached out to touch Spencer’s arm.

Spencer jerked away.  “Don’t touch me,” he said harshly.  He stood up.  “I’ll come back tomorrow when you’re at work to get what I need.”

Aaron kept his eyes open until he heard the door slam, and then he turned his face into the cushions and sobbed.

What did I just do?

---

Waking up the next morning without Spencer there to quietly support him was its own special hell.  Aaron didn’t even make it through his shower before he was doubled over on the ground gritting his teeth against the tears.  Only the knowledge that he needed to go to work got him on his feet again.  He needed to prove to his higher-ups, and himself, that he could still do his job.

Aaron swept the apartment with his eyes when he finally felt steady enough to leave the bedroom.  It had become a regular habit, hoping every time that he would realize what was missing.  Spencer had quoted some research about visual processing to him that explained why it was highly unlikely he would just notice it now, especially after all this time, but Aaron still looked.  His eyes wandered over to the kitchen and for a brief moment he expected to see Spencer sitting at the counter sipping coffee and reading the newspaper.

Aaron pulled his phone out and looked at it.  He was worried and felt like kicking himself.  Where had Spencer stayed?  He’d refused the offer for a hotel room, and Aaron knew he would never stay in his house.

I’m such an idiot.

Whether it was for kicking Spencer out or for not making sure he was somewhere safe, Aaron wasn’t sure, but he felt lower than he thought possible from the guilt.  Should he call?

He stared at his phone for a long time, debating, then the image of Foyet ambushing Spencer outside of the apartment complex flooded his mind and his fingers were hitting the buttons before he was even really aware of it.  He held the phone to his ear and prayed.

“Hello?” Spencer’s voice was wary.

Aaron gasped in relief.  “I just-I just wanted to make sure you were somewhere safe.”

“Thought of that a little late, didn’t you?”

“I just…”

“Is that all?”

No, I love you, come back to me, Aaron thought, but all he said was, “Yes.”

“Then yes, I found somewhere safe to stay.”

“Where?”

“Why the hell do you care?”

Aaron could hear the pain that Spencer was trying to hide with anger.  “Because-because I need to know that you’re safe and I need to know where you are if Foyet surfaces.”

There was a long pause.  “I’m at Father James’s house.  He’s letting me stay until I can find a job and get a place.”

Aaron felt his legs get weak from the absolute relief that swept over him.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t call me again.”  The line went dead.

Aaron shoved every other emotion that tried to overwhelm him aside and focused on one thing.  Spencer was safe.  He was with someone who cared about him.  He was with someone who could take care of him without subjecting him to the dangers of a psychopath.

Father James can’t love him.

Aaron shuddered.

Neither can I, not anymore, not in the way he deserves.

But no matter what he tried to tell himself, Aaron couldn’t stop from feeling like he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

---

Garcia was waiting for him when he got to work, standing next to his office door with a huge grin and a plate of cookies wrapped in pink saran wrap.  A little voice in Aaron’s head told him to be gracious and accept the cookies and thank her-she was only trying to help-but instead he ended up snapping at her to act more professionally and closing his door in her face.

Well, that would do it.  The whole team would know within the hour that something was Wrong with Hotch.  He sank down behind his desk, picked up the first file in his inbox, and started working.  The team had helped as much as possible with covering his paperwork, but there was still plenty for him to catch up on.  He was grateful for it.  The more work he had, the less time he had for his mind to wander.

The day passed without interruption.  The only person who dared enter his office was JJ, who arrived with a consult and left very quickly.

When he closed the last file of the day, Aaron sighed and leaned back.  He looked out into the empty bullpen, and then noticed a light coming from the other side of the upper level.  Garcia’s office.  With a twinge of guilt, Aaron gathered his belongings and stood up, stretching his stiff joints, and headed over.

The door was cracked slightly so Aaron knocked and then pushed it open.  Garcia was sitting in there at her screens playing Tetris.  Kevin Lynch was standing next to her with one hand resting on the back of her neck.  They both turned around.

Their reactions were textbook, Aaron noted.  Kevin’s eyes narrowed and he squared his shoulders while Garcia immediately looked apprehensive, but a little hopeful.

“Technical Analyst Lynch,” Aaron said, nodding his head once in greeting.  “I need to speak with Technical Analyst Garcia.”

Kevin might be a protective boyfriend, but he also wasn’t a fool, Aaron noted approvingly.  He wasn’t going to argue with proper titles and an establishment of hierarchy.  He did offer Aaron a look of warning as he walked by, though, and Aaron had to admire him for his bravery.

As soon as the door closed, he took a step forward.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I had no reason for snapping at you and I shouldn’t have.”

Garcia smiled immediately. “Oh, sir, it’s okay,” she said brightly.  “I know you’re going through a lot.”

“It’s still no excuse,” Aaron said.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “Is there anything I can do?”

Garcia turned around for a moment and then turned back, holding the plate in her hands.  She held it out.  “You could take these,” she said.

Aaron smiled.  “Thank you,” he said, and accepted the gift.

“All forgiven,” Garcia announced, beaming.  “You and Spencer can get all cozy and share them, I made enough for two.”

Aaron’s smile faltered, and a moment later, so did Garcia’s.

“Sir?” she asked.  “Is everything all right with…?”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said.  “Thank you again.”  He didn’t give her a chance to reply as he left, but he could picture the worried look on her face as he walked away.

---

Aaron was impressed with Rossi’s restraint.  He didn’t ambush him in his office until Wednesday.

“Let’s get lunch,” Rossi said.

Aaron raised an eyebrow at him.  “Why?”

“So I can pick your brain,” Rossi said, moving his head back in a come on gesture.

Aaron knew he wouldn’t be able to squirm his way out of this one so he grabbed his coat and followed his friend to the garage.

Rossi drove and they ended up at a little lunch bistro.  Rossi had apparently been there before and didn’t even look at the menu.  Aaron was able to evade the conversation he knew was coming for a little while by carefully perusing every single item, but eventually their coffee came and they placed their orders, and the menu was taken away.  Aaron felt very exposed without it.

“So what happened?” Rossi asked.  His voice was surprisingly gentle.

“With what?”

“Don’t play that game with me,” Rossi said.  “You’ve been here long after hours for two days straight, you get here early, you snapped at Garcia, she’s convinced there’s something wrong, and you look miserable.”

Aaron looked out the window.  “I made Spencer leave.”

“Why?” Rossi asked, and there was no judgment in his voice.

“Foyet,” Aaron said.

Rossi was quiet for a minute.  “Is that the only reason?”

Aaron winced.

“Aaron?”

“It…isn’t really something I want to talk about,” Aaron said.

“Okay,” Rossi said, to Aaron’s shock.  “The Foyet reason, at least, makes sense, and I can’t judge you for it.  If you want to talk about the other one, you know you can.”

“I know,” Aaron said.  “Thank you, Dave.”

Their soup arrived and the conversation shifted to more comfortable topics.  When their salads came, Rossi flirted with the waitress for a few moments while Aaron smiled fondly.  Rossi was a good friend.  No matter how much he loved to tease and torment, he knew the correct time and place, and Aaron was grateful.

When they finished their meals and the check and a pair of truffles were placed in front of them, the conversation lapsed into silence.  Suddenly Aaron wanted to tell Rossi everything.

“Dave?” he asked quietly.

“Yes Aaron?”

“Foyet…he did something else to me.”

Rossi’s gaze focused.  He waited.

Aaron swallowed.  “Do you know how many times he stabbed me?”

“Nine times,” Rossi said.

Aaron shook his head.  “Ten.”

He heard Rossi sit up straighter. He didn’t ask, didn’t press, just kept waiting.

Aaron didn’t even know how to describe… He wished he could just send the knowledge to Rossi without saying it.  He tried to speak and found his voice completely dead.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “He…what he did…he…”  Aaron couldn’t say it.  He just couldn’t.

Rossi waited a little longer before asking, “If you were describing something he had done to a victim, what would you say?”

Aaron blinked.  “Genital mutilation,” he said automatically, not even needing to think about the term, and then he paled and looked at Rossi in horror.

Rossi was staring back at him.  “Aaron…”

“Oh God,” Aaron said.  “I-”

“Did he…take…?” Rossi asked carefully.

Aaron shook his head.  “Stabbed, like everything else.”

Rossi looked relieved.  “Will you ever be able to…?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron said, looking back out the window.  “All the doctor could say was I might.”

“And you didn’t want Spencer to feel trapped into staying with you,” Rossi said.

Aaron nodded.

“Aaron, I understand and agree with you if you’re acting because of Foyet, but if you’re acting because of this, then you’re a damn fool.  You think he really cares if you can’t get it up?”

Aaron gritted his teeth.  “Dave…”

“No, listen.  There’s nothing you could do to him before that you can’t now,” Rossi said.

When Aaron flushed and started to protest, Rossi held up his hand.  “You can buy replacements,” he said.  “You could make sex every bit as good for him as it was before.  It’s you who lost something, is it fair to make him leave because of that?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron said.

“Well, it isn’t,” Rossi said.  “Not if you still love him, because I know he still loves you.”

“You-how?”

Rossi suddenly looked like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  “I talked to him yesterday,” he said.

Aaron stared.  “You what?”

“Father James invited me over for dinner,” Rossi admitted.  He spared Aaron a glance.  “It’s more than you ever did, I’ll say that.”

“Rossi,” Aaron growled, having to fight down a surge of jealousy.  “Get to the point.”

“Fine,” Rossi said.  “You are that man’s soul, Aaron.  And if you really are trying to protect him from Foyet, then I will support you all the way.  But if you’re pushing him away because you’re scared of facing what you lost, then I’ll say it again, you are a damn fool.”

The waitress came by to collect the card that Rossi had set on top of the bill without Aaron noticing and the conversation paused while she was there.  As soon as she was gone, Aaron leaned forward.  He spoke softer now, more aware of the people around them.  “It’s both,” he said.  “I don’t want Foyet to see him as target and I don’t want him to feel stuck with me.”

“So after we catch Foyet?”

Aaron paused.  “I-I don’t know,” he said.

“You better figure it out,” Rossi said.  “Besides, you still don’t know for sure if the damage is permanent.”

Aaron shook his head.

Rossi glared at him for a few more moments before his expression softened and he sighed.  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

“I know,” Aaron said.  “Thank you.”

“You know this changes his profile significantly,” Rossi said.  “He isn’t just trying to hurt you, he’s trying to establish dominance over you.”

Aaron nodded.

“And sometimes,” Rossi said, “That extends to possessions as well.  And viewed from the outside, at least, you are the dominant and Spencer belongs to you.”

“I know,” Aaron said.

“We’ll catch him,” Rossi said.  “And once we do, you can drag your sorry ass over there and ask Spencer to come back.”

Aaron laughed shortly.  “Beg, more like,” he said.

“He was pretty pissed,” Rossi said.

Aaron winced.

The waitress returned with their receipt.  Rossi signed it, added an extravagant tip, and stood up.  “Come on,” he said.  “Back to work.”

Aaron touched his arm as he walked by, making Rossi pause and look back.

“Thank you,” Aaron said quietly.

Rossi smiled.  “Anytime you need someone to kick sense into your thick head, call me.”

---

Feeling slightly more justified in his decision to keep Spencer safe from Foyet didn’t do much to help Aaron ward off the depression that settled over him every time he was in the apartment.  With Spencer gone his rhythm felt off and coming home at the end of a case, which had once been an anticipated joy, was now a crushing sorrow.

The only thing that kept Aaron coming home was the knowledge that he needed to have a place for Jack to stay during his visits that felt maintained and lived-in.  He was headed there now, just barely in time for his first scheduled weekend with Jack since he’d returned to work.  He was running on three hours of sleep that had been snagged in the corner of a rural office and his neck ached, but all that mattered was that the case was over and he wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Haley looked confused when she arrived and realized Aaron was by himself, but she hugged him, kissed him on the cheek, and left without asking.  Jack immediately ran to his room to put his backpack down and reappeared moments after the door closed, clutching what looked like a homemade sundial, constructed from a paper plate, cardboard, tape, and markers.

“Spencer!” Jack called, then looked at his father.

Aaron’s heart broke.  He set Jack’s bag down and knelt in front of his son.  “What do have there?” he asked.

“A sundial,” Jack said, looking down at it.  “It’s for the sun.”

“What does it do?” Aaron asked.

“It’s for time,” Jack said.  “We had to make them outside with the shadows.”  He pointed at one of the marks.  “This is recess time.”

Aaron smiled.  “It’s very nice,” he said.

“Where’s Spencer?” Jack asked.

“He isn’t here,” Aaron said.

Jack’s face fell.  “But I want to show him!”

“I know, buddy,” Aaron said.  “He would be very proud of you.”

“But I had a question,” Jack said.

“Maybe I can help,” Aaron offered, silently praying that the question would be one he knew.

“Do you know who invented sundials?” Jack asked, looking hopeful.

Aaron searched his memory.  Nothing.  “Ah…ancient people used them to tell time,” he said.  “Before clocks.”

“Oh,” Jack said, and turned away, looking disappointed.  He walked into the kitchen and Aaron heard the fridge open.

Aaron sighed and stood up, taking Jack’s bag to his room.  He walked back into the main room to find Jack standing there frowning at him.

Aaron’s mind raced.  Did Jack blame him for Spencer leaving?  Was Jack even old enough to think like that?  What if he started thinking of his father as someone who couldn’t stay in a relationship?

“Where’s my picture?” Jack demanded.

Aaron frowned.  “Your picture?”

Jack grabbed his hand and pulled, then pointed at the front of the fridge.  It was scattered with magnets and school photos and report cards.  “My picture,” he said.

Aaron stopped breathing.  The picture Jack had drawn of Spencer teaching him about dinosaurs, the one that had Aaron standing next to them and Haley behind them in the house.

“Children whose artwork is displayed tend to have stronger self-esteem and higher expectations for their creative endeavors.”

Spencer had told him that, and Aaron had subsequently put the picture on the front of the fridge.  He stared.  It was gone.  It was gone.

Aaron fumbled for his phone and snapped it open.  He hit a speed dial and held it to his ear.  He heard the other end answer and without waiting for the person to greet him he blurted out, “I found what he took.”