Wasted

Chapter 5

Hotch was more than willing to spend his Saturday with Spencer doing nothing more than lying in bed watching trash television. Spencer even slept through the majority of it all, but Hotch couldn't have been more content. They both needed the rest, and even spending his time doing nothing more than holding Spencer as he slept was more than enough to rejuvenate him.

At some point in the evening, they ordered Chinese take-out, and it was truly the most eventful thing either of them had done all day. Hotch admired Spencer as he ate, relieved to actually see him regaining an appetite and appear slightly less exhausted; after all, all he wanted was for the young man he loved to be happy.

"Thanks for putting up with me today. I'm sorry I haven't been myself." Spencer said sheepishly between spoonfuls of fried rice.

Hotch leaned across the sofa where they were both sitting and pushed a strand of Spencer's constantly disheveled hair out of his eyes. "Spencer, I never want you to feel like you have to apologize to me for 'putting up with you'. The fact that I get to put up with you is an honor, and I don't want you to forget that."

Spencer blushed lightly, looking down at his lap. "You're so good to me."

"It's kind of my job to be." Hotch smirked.

Spencer set his container of food on the coffee table, and repositioned himself so that he was resting on his lover's chest, with Hotch's arm draped over him instinctually. "But I know that it doesn't have to be, and you should take credit where it's due. You're patient and understanding and thoughtful and… and you're just perfect to me. I don't thank you enough."

Hotch tightened his grip around Spencer ever so slightly, and leaned down to kiss his forehead lightly. "This, moments like this, right here… This is all the thanks you ever need to give me for a lifetime." Spencer cuddled into Hotch's chest and closed his eyes before the older man went on. "I'm beyond happy with you, Spencer."

Spencer sighed, mostly content, but with a hint of something more than Hotch couldn't quite detect. "I just never want you to leave. I don't think I'd even remember how to live without you anymore."

Hotch furrowed his brow. "I'm not going to leave you, Spencer. I love you. Do you worry about this often?"

Spencer sighed again, his eyes still closed. "I never used to until… recently." His eyelids reluctantly pulled open and he looked up at his lover. "People are just so temporary anymore."

Hotch felt his heart sink ever so slightly. He hated seeing Spencer so stressed and worried more than anything in the world. "I'm not going anywhere. I realize now how difficult things have been for you lately, and I can't even imagine the transition that you've had to go through to begin taking care of Alice again. But there is not a single mess in this world big enough to convince me to leave you, so you have nothing to worry about. I'm sticking around."

"I love you, Aaron." Spencer placed a kiss along Hotch's jawline, the briefest moment of relief passing across his face.

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It was practically one in the morning when the knock on Spencer's apartment door woke both he and Hotch from their sleep. Groggily, Spencer let out a small groan, already more than aware of who was at his door before he even opened it. Hotch followed him out of bed, unsure of the trouble that was destined to tumble into the apartment when Spencer opened the door.

Sure enough, when Spencer opened the door, Alice's small frame was revealed. She'd been crying.

"I-I'm sorry, Spencer. I didn't know where else to go." She sniffled and wiped her cheek. "I'm sober, I swear to God."

"Are you sure?" Spencer retorted, partially out of disbelief and partially out of irritation for being woken up. However, he opened the door without any questions, and let his sister into his apartment.

She walked in timidly, her eyes on the ground and arms crossed in front of her. Hotch immediately took in her outfit – a pair of leggings and boots, and a top that he was pretty sure was nothing more than a fancy bra, concealed only by a leather jacket. He couldn't tell if she'd been walking the streets or working at the strip club.

As though Spencer had the same question, he spoke up. "Did you come from work?"

Alice scoffed, making her way to the sofa so that she could sit. "What gave it away, the outfit or the smell of old perverts and shame?"

"Both, actually." Spencer said, matter-of-factly. Hotch wasn't sure if he'd understood his sister's sarcasm, or if it had just gone over his head.

Alice buried her head in her hands, shaking her head slowly. "Can I just crash here for a night or two? I promise I'll stay sober."

Spencer sighed in utter exhaustion and disappointment. "Please don't promise me that when we both know that you'll let me down." He frowned, but went on. "Yes, you can stay here."

"Thank you." Alice choked out hoarsely. Hotch as sure she was about to start crying again.

Spencer sat down next to Alice on the sofa. "You have to tell me what happened, though. You can't keep me in the dark on this. Are you in trouble?"

Alice sniffled, her bottom lip quivering slightly. From where Hotch observed her across the room, he was all the more certain that he earlier prediction about her crying was about to come true. "I-I just can't go home right now. I…" She hesitated. She avoided all eye contact with her brother. "I just don't feel safe there right now."

By the way Spencer clenched his jaw, Hotch knew that the younger man already knew why Alice was frightened, without her even telling him. "Did he hit you again?"

Alice closed her eyes and turned her head. "Spencer, please don't."

Spencer repeated himself, his anger not restrained in the slightest bit. Hotch was taken off guard quickly by the amount of emotion that the young man was about to produce so suddenly. "Did he hit you again?"

"Spencer, I-"

"Alice! Did. He. Hit. You.?" Spencer practically screamed through gritted teeth. Hotch instinctively took a step forward in anticipation.

"He didn't mean it!" Alice cried out, the tears bursting down her cheeks so suddenly and so forcefully that Hotch wondered how she had held them back for so long. She was retreating into herself more and more with every second that passed, and Hotch couldn't help but wonder if the situation may have perhaps been resolved more calmly if Alice had indeed not been sober for once.

It took Hotch one glance at Spencer's face to read how absolutely disgusted the young man was. His expression was one of utter revulsion, not at his sister, but at the situation as a whole, and certainly at the boy who had dared lay a finger on her.

"Ben loves me." Alice choked out, so much to herself that Hotch wasn't sure if she was even aware that she had said it out loud, between her gasps and sobs.

A flame flickered in Spencer's eyes. "Ben loves you? He loves you?" He reached out and firmly grabbed Alice's shoulders, causing her to immediately flinch and sob all the harder. "Listen to yourself!"

"You're hurting me, Spencer." Alice cried out, more out of desperation and avoidance than out of actual pain.

Spencer only became all the angrier. "I'm hurting you? Oh, great. So Ben can hit you and you believe that he still loves you, yet when I try to talk some sense into you, I'm hu—"

Hotch stepped around the sofa and intervened for the first time, gently pulling Spencer off of Alice. "That's enough, Reid. She's just in shock. You know that. Look at her—she just needs to breathe. You know that." He spoke as soothingly as possible, with Alice choking on her sobs in the background and Spencer's eyes burning darker than he had ever seen before.

For the first time, Hotch truly realized what a mess he'd gotten himself pulled into, in less than forty eight hours.

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It took nearly an hour for Alice to calm down enough to fall asleep on the sofa. The apartment had been strangely silent during that time, with Spencer sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the wall and biting in the inside of his cheek, surely deep in thought over the idea of finding Ben and skinning him alive. Hotch had tried his best to simply mediate between the two, but not much could be done; Alice refused to do anything other than cry and Spencer simply stared away in silence.

"Is she asleep?" Spencer finally spoke up, his gaze not shifting from the wall.

"I believe so." Hotch replied, leaning against one of the kitchen barstools. "We'll figure this out in the morning, Spencer. It'll all be fine."

Spencer scoffed. "It's never fine, Aaron." He looked over at the older man, the look on his face distant and sad, and heartbreaking for Hotch to look at. "She's so broken."

Hotch walked over to Spencer, and knelt beside the table so that they were eye level. He cupped the younger man's face with his hand, and Spencer leaned into his touch. "She's battered, Spencer. You've seen this dozens of times before in women we've come across in cases."

"But this is my sister, Hotch. My sister. I can't—" He trailed off, his voice breaking. After a pause, he went on. "I don't know how much longer I can live with seeing her like this."

Hotch looked back into the boy's brown eyes, searching for an answer within them that he simply could not find. "I know, Spencer. But you'll get through this. We'll get through this. We always do."

"You didn't sign up for this." Spencer looked at the ground, and Hotch silently prayed that his lover wouldn't start crying; he was simply too emotionally drained to have to see that at the moment, and he feared that he would start crying, too.

"I signed up to be with you." Hotch answered. "And I wouldn't want it any other way – battered, alcoholic sisters and all." He shot Spencer a sad, small smile, that the younger man couldn't help but return.

"Let's get to bed." Hotch stood up, offering his hand out for Spencer to take. "You'll feel better in the morning, and we'll deal with Alice then."

To Be Continued

A/N: Sorry this post took forever… I've been having serious writer's block on everything lately. Hope you all choose to still stick with this story! Your support means the world to me. I love you all. xx