Title: Witness
By: nebula99
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Type: Slash
Permission to archive: Yes
Pairing: Reid/OC, Hotch/Reid
Summary: He had thought that part of his life was over.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. At all.
Warning: Deals with domestic violence and may trigger.
Author's Note: A potential continuation of a story I wrote called "Red Mist".

***

Spencer Reid stared at the letter in his hand. In the long minutes since he had opened it and read the contents, he had been frozen to the spot. The street sounds outside his apartment had faded away until all that he could hear was his own rapid pulse pounding in his ears.

His eyes scanned the letter again. There was no mistaking the contents; every detail was printed in bold type. Enclosed with the letter was an information leaflet giving him a map and parking details. He felt sick.

Swallowing hard, as though there was a stone in his throat, Reid forced himself to move, to reach into his pocket and pull out his cell phone. With shaking fingers he pressed Speed Dial 1.

It rang out five times before he heard the voice he needed. "Hotchner."

"Aaron," croaked Reid. "Are you home yet?"

"No," said Hotch, "I pulled over to take your call. Is everything alright?"

Reid shook his head before whispering, "No."

Hotch's response was swift. "I'm on my way," he said and then hung up.

Forcing his feet to move, Reid stumbled to his couch and then dropped onto it to wait for Hotch, the letter still clutched in his hand.

Twenty minutes later, Hotch let himself in and hurried over to the couch. He took the letter that Reid held out and read it quickly before sitting down next to him and wrapping his arm around the young man's shoulders.

"I guess I have one of these too," he said softly.

Reid couldn't reply – there were far too many words swirling around his brain to form coherent sentences – and so he just nodded. He clasped his hands tightly together, pressing the tips of his fingers harshly into the gaps between his knuckles. He was trying so hard not to cry.

They sat in silence for a while, Reid feeling the warmth from Hotch's body gradually spreading into his own. He knew Hotch would understand, wouldn't press him to comment but eventually the urge to blurt out the fear and anger became too strong.

"It's not fair," he said suddenly, aware that he sounded like a child.

Hotch didn't reply. Instead he moved a hand to stroke a lock of Reid's hair away from his face.

Reid inhaled and then exhaled loudly, almost snorting out the warm breath. "I already went before a Grand Jury, Aaron," he said, "I've testified once already to what Nick did to me and now I have to do it again?"

"Spencer-" started Hotch.

"He hasn't even tried a plea bargain!" said Reid, his voice growing louder. "There is no possible defence to what he did but he's going to make me go through a trial anyway." He turned to look at Hotch. "Why won't he just let me go?"

Hotch sighed. "Hamilton's playing games, Spencer. He's trying a last attempt to control you, to call the shots and to make you feel bad." He pressed a kiss to Reid's forehead.

"Well, it's working," muttered Reid. "It was me he beat the crap out of, but I don't get any say over what happens. They bring the case and I'm just another witness."

"I know," said Hotch soothingly. "It's how the system works. It's the only-"

"Fair way?" interrupted Reid. "Don't defend it, Aaron, because right now it sucks."

Hotch paused a moment and then nodded. "Okay, you're right, I'm sorry." He pulled Reid closer and held him tight.

"I just want it to be over," said Reid, his voice cracking. He leaned into Hotch's embrace, letting his tired body sag into the comforting touch.

"I know," murmured Hotch, stroking his hair. "And it will be soon. Do you want me to stay?"

Reid nodded against Hotch's chest and then allowed himself to be gently raised to his feet and walked to the bedroom.

Curled up in Hotch's arms, he lay wide awake for hours, trying to damp down the bitterness enough to let him sleep. Eyes open, he watched the digital display on his alarm clock flick from number to number as Hotch's rhythmic breathing warmed his neck. The arm draped over his chest was strong and secure and it felt good to have company.

But within weeks he was going to have to take the stand and face his former lover alone.

It wasn't fair.

end