AN- During "Memoriam" I was really intrigued by how upset Reid seemed by just remembering his dad sitting on his bed, and how he immediately said that he didn't want to remember anymore. We've all considered this at some point, and I had to write it. I originally had a better version, but my computer shut down so I had to rewrite. Hope you enjoy!


"Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing."

Reid could feel himself tighten his grip on the woman's wrist but then he was less and less aware because his old bedroom is looming up before him with the nighttime sounds and shouts and he is in the bed and cold and tight and now he isn't Reid, he is Spencer.

His parents are screaming, and he pulls his blanket over his head because maybe if he does not hear them then they are not really there and they are not really fighting and everything is okay. His mom's voice pierces through his covers, choked, hysterical. She sounds close to tears. He doesn't want her to cry, but he knows that he can't defend her right now. Just the thought of getting up makes him feel queasy because just like last time he knows that his dad will knock his books down and they will crash to the ground, and his mother will wail and plead and beg and tear at her graying hair.

Things are not right now but they will not change. It is too late.

And the voices are louder and he burrows deeper into the warm flannel blue pajamas that he and his mom bought from the smiling lady at the corner store this morning, a million years ago. Then suddenly the voices go quiet and he relaxes. He watches his books on their shelves as the spines flesh out in the passing car lights and he thinks that maybe in the morning when it's bright he'll read Dickens again because there's so much more to find each time and he loves the new information and he can get so lost in it that he isn't even here at all.

The silence persists, but now there are heavy but muffled carpeted steps padding up to his doorway. Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, pretends that he's asleep- maybe if he pretends hard enough he will be asleep and he will not have to stay aware any longer. His muscles involuntarily tense.

"He's coming in."


The thin mattress creaks at the crude adult weight and Spencer holds his breath because if he breathes he will give his fa├žade away and he will be obviously awake and who knows what will happen then. He can smell the beer and aftershave and for a lawyer doesn't that seem wrong he shouldn't drink ever is he drunk right now? Spencer should not recognize the smell of alcohol but he does. It's Vegas Vegas the smell is everywhere all over in paper bags.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and it squeezes him, and his stomach turns in a way that he can't put to words even with all of the words he knows from all of his books.

"I know you're awake."

And he's so afraid he can hardly breathe. Spencer already knows who this is because who else could it be but suddenly he knows even more and he can't move because what if it happens again he doesn't want it to happen he knows it is wrong. The hand on his shoulder is too cold he thinks it might seep through his pajamas to his skin to his core and he shivers. The face moves closer to his own; the voice is louder.


"What about him, Spencer? What is he doing?"

The mattress shifts and his father's feet are dangling off of the bed's edge because his dad is too big for this bed but he's still just lying there and Spencer wants him to leave but knows that he won't. Suddenly there's a hand in his hair and an arm around his waist and Spencer gags and under the blankets his fists tighten because no this isn't happening I am still asleep I am asleep I am not here.

"Daddy loves you, you know that?"

Now he can feel it deep inside he knows just what this is after all he's read it but it can't be real. The first time he had thought that it was nothing but now he knows it is something and he can smell the musk and sweat and heat and no no please not again but he cannot protest because he cannot manage to speak and he knows it is wrong and where is mom now and is she okay and no please don't I know you don't mean it please stop now whimpering tears noises choked

"I don't wanna be here."

AN- I hope you liked it, it felt a little strange to write, but Reid seemed far to upset for something to not have occurred in that memory. Thanks for reading, you'll probably hear from me again soon!