Lucky, Criminal Minds (AU), NC-17
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Title: Lucky
Character: Spencer Reid
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 823
Summary: In a complete AU, Spencer breaks down and has his mother committed much earlier, relegating himself to foster care and finding himself in a bad place when he becomes the target of a man who likes young men.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for angst_bingo, prompt "Virginity". WARNINGS: Underage non-con and the fall out of the same.
He lost his innocence long before he lost his virginity. When you’re twelve and a genius and the son of a schizophrenic, it falls on you to do a lot of things that eat away at your ability to remain innocent.
And that includes telling someone when you just can’t do it anymore.
So by the time he’s fifteen, he’s known what it is to betray the person he loves most, to disappear into a system too overloaded and unbalanced to accommodate the special needs of any one child, to see his bright future fade to an uncertain gleam on the horizon…so the loss of one more thing doesn’t destroy him.
Like everything else he’s lost, this is his fault too. He’s in the wrong place at the wrong time and he knows he’s in trouble when he hears the locker room doors close with a thud that seems foreboding. He hurries to finish his shower before Phillip Avery finds him there.
He’s spent the whole year avoiding the man after seeing him with another boy. Never take too long in the locker room, never be the last one, never let him single you out in class. Spencer Reid knew these things, and yet, here he was, in nothing but a towel, alone in the locker room at the end of the school day.
He has a moment of thinking he might be okay when he reaches his locker and gets it open, only to find his clothes missing.
“Reid, my office.”
His heart sinks and he considers running, telling someone….but what could he say? He clutches at the towel and inches around the bench, flinching when Coach Avery’s hand touches him. “Y-yes, Coach?” Spencer stammers, swallowing when the door closes and Avery closes the blinds.
“I think you know.” Coach Avery responds.
It may be his fault, but Spencer isn’t ready to just bend over. He flushes as he realizes the origin of the phrase and it’s accuracy to the situation, blinking up at the coach. “I…just need my clothes.” Spencer says, gesturing to the pants and shirt folded neatly on the desk.
“Reach for them.” The coach moves behind him, his hand already on Spencer’s towel-clad ass.
Spencer clutches at the towel as he reaches, trying to step forward and out of his reach, but the coach is holding his waist now, pulling on the towel and Spencer is no match for him, with his scrawny arms and legs. “I’ve been watching you, Reid. You’re going to like this.”
Spencer closes his eyes as his face comes to rest on the desk, breathing through the fear, the humiliation as his fingers touch places no one has touched him since he was small. He doesn’t fight. He knows fighting will only make it worse. He breathes and counts in Latin in his head, pulling away from his body and the feeling of violation. He hits two hundred before it’s over and something hot and wet fills him.”
The coach slaps his ass and steps back. “You better get dressed. I’ll drive you home, you’ve probably missed your bus by now.”
Spencer doesn’t say anything, just takes his clothes and heads back to the shower to wash away the evidence. The coach is all smiles and warm hands on Spencer’s knee in the car and when they stop in front of the latest foster home, he cover’s Spencer’s hand with his. “I enjoyed our time together. I’d like to see you again.”
Spencer can only pull his hand away and open his door. “I’ve got homework.”
Anyone who knew him knew it was a lie. Spencer never had homework. He was always done before his last class was over. He slams the car door and heads up the walk. He hurts, but he won’t let it show. He keeps the tears in by biting on the inside of his cheek.
Statistically speaking, he’s been lucky. He doesn’t feel lucky. He feels used. And stupid. He falls into his bed and curls up in a ball and bites his cheek until he tastes blood.
It doesn’t take long before everyone knows. Coach’s hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. They all know it’s his turn. They whisper and point. They snicker. They call him names he doesn’t understand, and once he finds out what they mean, he wishes he never did.
He comes close to telling someone. He sits at the kitchen table and looks at the man he’s supposed to trust to take care of him. Dan Graves. Forty-five year old white male from Dallas. Manager of a hardware store. He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come. He doesn’t know how to start.
Dinner is on the table and the kids clamber in, rattling about school projects and money for this or that and Spencer closes his mouth, folds up, folds in. It doesn’t matter.
They don’t see him anyway.
Title: Lucky
Character: Spencer Reid
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 823
Summary: In a complete AU, Spencer breaks down and has his mother committed much earlier, relegating himself to foster care and finding himself in a bad place when he becomes the target of a man who likes young men.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for angst_bingo, prompt "Virginity". WARNINGS: Underage non-con and the fall out of the same.
He lost his innocence long before he lost his virginity. When you’re twelve and a genius and the son of a schizophrenic, it falls on you to do a lot of things that eat away at your ability to remain innocent.
And that includes telling someone when you just can’t do it anymore.
So by the time he’s fifteen, he’s known what it is to betray the person he loves most, to disappear into a system too overloaded and unbalanced to accommodate the special needs of any one child, to see his bright future fade to an uncertain gleam on the horizon…so the loss of one more thing doesn’t destroy him.
Like everything else he’s lost, this is his fault too. He’s in the wrong place at the wrong time and he knows he’s in trouble when he hears the locker room doors close with a thud that seems foreboding. He hurries to finish his shower before Phillip Avery finds him there.
He’s spent the whole year avoiding the man after seeing him with another boy. Never take too long in the locker room, never be the last one, never let him single you out in class. Spencer Reid knew these things, and yet, here he was, in nothing but a towel, alone in the locker room at the end of the school day.
He has a moment of thinking he might be okay when he reaches his locker and gets it open, only to find his clothes missing.
“Reid, my office.”
His heart sinks and he considers running, telling someone….but what could he say? He clutches at the towel and inches around the bench, flinching when Coach Avery’s hand touches him. “Y-yes, Coach?” Spencer stammers, swallowing when the door closes and Avery closes the blinds.
“I think you know.” Coach Avery responds.
It may be his fault, but Spencer isn’t ready to just bend over. He flushes as he realizes the origin of the phrase and it’s accuracy to the situation, blinking up at the coach. “I…just need my clothes.” Spencer says, gesturing to the pants and shirt folded neatly on the desk.
“Reach for them.” The coach moves behind him, his hand already on Spencer’s towel-clad ass.
Spencer clutches at the towel as he reaches, trying to step forward and out of his reach, but the coach is holding his waist now, pulling on the towel and Spencer is no match for him, with his scrawny arms and legs. “I’ve been watching you, Reid. You’re going to like this.”
Spencer closes his eyes as his face comes to rest on the desk, breathing through the fear, the humiliation as his fingers touch places no one has touched him since he was small. He doesn’t fight. He knows fighting will only make it worse. He breathes and counts in Latin in his head, pulling away from his body and the feeling of violation. He hits two hundred before it’s over and something hot and wet fills him.”
The coach slaps his ass and steps back. “You better get dressed. I’ll drive you home, you’ve probably missed your bus by now.”
Spencer doesn’t say anything, just takes his clothes and heads back to the shower to wash away the evidence. The coach is all smiles and warm hands on Spencer’s knee in the car and when they stop in front of the latest foster home, he cover’s Spencer’s hand with his. “I enjoyed our time together. I’d like to see you again.”
Spencer can only pull his hand away and open his door. “I’ve got homework.”
Anyone who knew him knew it was a lie. Spencer never had homework. He was always done before his last class was over. He slams the car door and heads up the walk. He hurts, but he won’t let it show. He keeps the tears in by biting on the inside of his cheek.
Statistically speaking, he’s been lucky. He doesn’t feel lucky. He feels used. And stupid. He falls into his bed and curls up in a ball and bites his cheek until he tastes blood.
It doesn’t take long before everyone knows. Coach’s hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. They all know it’s his turn. They whisper and point. They snicker. They call him names he doesn’t understand, and once he finds out what they mean, he wishes he never did.
He comes close to telling someone. He sits at the kitchen table and looks at the man he’s supposed to trust to take care of him. Dan Graves. Forty-five year old white male from Dallas. Manager of a hardware store. He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come. He doesn’t know how to start.
Dinner is on the table and the kids clamber in, rattling about school projects and money for this or that and Spencer closes his mouth, folds up, folds in. It doesn’t matter.
They don’t see him anyway.