Running, Criminal Minds, R-ish
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Title: Running
Character: Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan
Rating: R-ish
Word Count: 557
Summary: In a complete AU, Spencer breaks down and has his mother committed much earlier, and after suffering abuse, he runs away, only to find that life on the streets isn't any easier.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for angst_bingo, prompt "Falling". Immediately follows Lucky. WARNINGS: References to underage non-con and the fall out of the same. Life on the streets.
He leaves days before he’s sixteen. Before it gets worse.
He has no where to go, but that doesn’t stop him. He packs a change of clothes and a couple of books, poetry his mother used to read to him, steals fifty dollars from his foster mother’s purse and slips out into the dark in the middle of the night.
He fades into the background, hidden by the bright lights of Sin City, unnoticed among the cast off glitter and jackpot sirens. He figures he can fake his age, find some job. He wanders at night, and during the day, when the Las Vegas sun beats down he hides in the bowels of an old office building and loses himself in books he takes from the public library.
He always puts them back the next evening, after reading them, committing them to memory with the pass of his eyes over the page until he’s swimming in knowledge of gaming systems and psychiatry and he’s half way through the medical section when he sees a familiar face.
Spencer freezes, staring. Coach Avery stares back, his hand on some boy’s shoulder.
“Spencer-“ His voice is enough, spurs him to drop the books he’s holding and dash out into the early evening, through the quiet residential streets and out onto the strip. He doesn’t look, doesn’t stop running…he doesn’t hear or feel, just runs and runs and runs.
He finds himself sometime later in an alley between a strip joint and an adult bookstore, counting the bricks to himself to keep from screaming. He doesn’t remember how he got there or where he’d been before.
It scares him.
He turns around, looking for something to tell him where he is and why, to anchor him to the moment, something to prove he isn’t losing his mind, not going crazy, not falling into the same madness that stole his mother.
He finds a guy instead. A man. “Hey, pretty boy. You lost?”
“Pretty….” Spencer frowned and looked around them. “Who, me?”
“Only one I see standing here.”
He was tall and dark skinned, muscled and dressed in jeans and a tight fitted t-shirt. “You okay?”
Spencer frowned harder. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m Derek.”
Spencer clears his throat, fidgeting in place. “Spencer.”
“Well, Spencer, this doesn’t look like your neck of the woods.”
“Actually, it’s a desert.” Spencer corrected reflexively.
Derek laughed, his smile brilliant. “You’re right it is. Dangerous for a kid alone out on these streets.”
He wanted to argue, but there was nothing technically wrong with the statement. “I’m…lost.” He finally concedes, pushing his hair back behind his ears.
“I guess you are. Runaway or homeless?”
“What? I…” Spencer started to back away.
“Easy now, just asking a question. How long since you’ve eaten?”
Spencer frowns all the harder. It’s been days really. The money was gone and he hadn’t figured out how to get that job he wanted. “Look, I gotta work, but come inside with me. When I’m done, we’ll go get some real food.”
“Why?” Spencer asks, shaking his head.
Derek smiles again. “You look like you need a friend.”
Spencer shivers. “I gotta go.”
He runs away, back out into the late night crowds of tourists and drunks…slipping, falling inside his own head, into the dark that he always knew would swallow him whole.
Title: Running
Character: Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan
Rating: R-ish
Word Count: 557
Summary: In a complete AU, Spencer breaks down and has his mother committed much earlier, and after suffering abuse, he runs away, only to find that life on the streets isn't any easier.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for angst_bingo, prompt "Falling". Immediately follows Lucky. WARNINGS: References to underage non-con and the fall out of the same. Life on the streets.
He leaves days before he’s sixteen. Before it gets worse.
He has no where to go, but that doesn’t stop him. He packs a change of clothes and a couple of books, poetry his mother used to read to him, steals fifty dollars from his foster mother’s purse and slips out into the dark in the middle of the night.
He fades into the background, hidden by the bright lights of Sin City, unnoticed among the cast off glitter and jackpot sirens. He figures he can fake his age, find some job. He wanders at night, and during the day, when the Las Vegas sun beats down he hides in the bowels of an old office building and loses himself in books he takes from the public library.
He always puts them back the next evening, after reading them, committing them to memory with the pass of his eyes over the page until he’s swimming in knowledge of gaming systems and psychiatry and he’s half way through the medical section when he sees a familiar face.
Spencer freezes, staring. Coach Avery stares back, his hand on some boy’s shoulder.
“Spencer-“ His voice is enough, spurs him to drop the books he’s holding and dash out into the early evening, through the quiet residential streets and out onto the strip. He doesn’t look, doesn’t stop running…he doesn’t hear or feel, just runs and runs and runs.
He finds himself sometime later in an alley between a strip joint and an adult bookstore, counting the bricks to himself to keep from screaming. He doesn’t remember how he got there or where he’d been before.
It scares him.
He turns around, looking for something to tell him where he is and why, to anchor him to the moment, something to prove he isn’t losing his mind, not going crazy, not falling into the same madness that stole his mother.
He finds a guy instead. A man. “Hey, pretty boy. You lost?”
“Pretty….” Spencer frowned and looked around them. “Who, me?”
“Only one I see standing here.”
He was tall and dark skinned, muscled and dressed in jeans and a tight fitted t-shirt. “You okay?”
Spencer frowned harder. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m Derek.”
Spencer clears his throat, fidgeting in place. “Spencer.”
“Well, Spencer, this doesn’t look like your neck of the woods.”
“Actually, it’s a desert.” Spencer corrected reflexively.
Derek laughed, his smile brilliant. “You’re right it is. Dangerous for a kid alone out on these streets.”
He wanted to argue, but there was nothing technically wrong with the statement. “I’m…lost.” He finally concedes, pushing his hair back behind his ears.
“I guess you are. Runaway or homeless?”
“What? I…” Spencer started to back away.
“Easy now, just asking a question. How long since you’ve eaten?”
Spencer frowns all the harder. It’s been days really. The money was gone and he hadn’t figured out how to get that job he wanted. “Look, I gotta work, but come inside with me. When I’m done, we’ll go get some real food.”
“Why?” Spencer asks, shaking his head.
Derek smiles again. “You look like you need a friend.”
Spencer shivers. “I gotta go.”
He runs away, back out into the late night crowds of tourists and drunks…slipping, falling inside his own head, into the dark that he always knew would swallow him whole.