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Doing Time


Spencer Reid is thrown in prison. Feeling young and vulnerable he tries his best not to fall victim to the dangers lurking at every possible corner.

Drama / Romance
Age Rating:

A Harsh Wake-Up


The word rang into the silence as the prison guard walked across the line eyeing every new inmate, shuffling off their clothes at different speed as he passed them. He halted in the middle and frowned as he watched a tall, thin, young man take of his pants slowly while blushing.

“How old are you, boy?”

The young man looked up and met the guard's gaze before quickly looking to his feet.

“Twe-twenty-one, sir.” The prison guard stared at him, unbelieving and wide-eyed before he gathered his wits and formed his face back into the arrogant smirk.

“You might as well tell me the truth – no one's gonna serve you any alcohol in here.” The naked men around laughed loudly. The young man's face reddened even more.

“But I'm telling the truth! I'm 21 years old!” The guard eyed him even closer. Long legs, slim shoulders, shoulder length curly brown hair, and big brown eyes. A boy like this really didn't stand a chance in a place like that.

“You got any tricks?”

The young man looked confused. “I do a little magic, sir?”

“... I'll take that as a no. What on earth did you do to end up here?”

“Well, you see sir. I was kind of a 'Joker' in the Las Vegas Gang War, but the...”

“Rhetorical question!” The guard took a step closer to the young man, who grasped his genitals unconsciously. A pitiful act of protection. “What's your name?”

“Spencer Reid, sir!” He gulped and the guard watched his Adam's apple jump.

“Mr. Reid – I'm sad to inform you, that from this day onward you will be left at these men's mercy,” he gestured to the naked men standing in line with Spencer. Several laughs and a couple of cat-calls made him shiver. “They will own you. And if you don't hurry up and find yourself a good Daddy or someone to take care of you it's just a matter of days before you the do the Dutch.” Spencer looked at him with a lost look on his face. The guard frowned and stuck his head close to Spencer's, speaking quietly, so only the lost boy in front of him would hear. “Top off? Knock off? Dump?” The look on Spencer's face grew blanker for every alien expression leaving the uniformed man, and he finally sighed with resignation. “Kill yourself.”

Spencer's eyes grew wide with terror and the guard smiled a small satisfied smile.

“Gentlemen,” the guard said in a louder voice and stepped back. He smiled to the other uniformed men in the big white-tiled room. “Open fire.”

Hard sprays of ice-cold water hit Spencer and his fellow inmates in the chest, on the legs and in the face. He sputtered water as he tried to breathe but coughed as he drew equal portions of air and water down his lungs.

He couldn't help but wonder, why hadn't he done as his mother had told him to time and time again and gone to college.

“Next,” the voice on the other side of the door bellowed as another bulky man came out. His walk was slightly awkward and Spencer couldn't help but wonder what happened on the other side of the door.

“Don't worry, Gorgeous,” a voice said next to his ear. Spencer started, shivered and wanted to move forward but an angry glare from the man in front told him to be still. The voice from behind continued. “It's just a health-check.” Spencer let out a deep breath and felt some of the tension disappear. “But what I'm really disappointed about is the fact, that that slimy old croaker-”

“What's a croaker?”

“Uh...” The voice sounded a bit taken aback by Spencer's sudden question. The young man had deemed the excessive use of prison slang a possible problem since he didn't know any. He knew a lot of fancy, science related words, but he seriously doubted they would help him in a space like that, hence his eagerness to learn the new, an actually rather interesting language. “A croaker is a doctor.”

“Oh – okay... Thanks!” Spencer smiled to himself and felt content with the expansion of his vocabulary.

“What I was trying to say, Princess,” Spencer frowned and tried to fight back the pang of annoyance and embarrassment at the feminine moniker, “is that I'm sad that the doctor gets to be the first up your deliciously tight ass.” He grabbed Spencer's ass as the last word was spoken and a loud, surprised squeak left Spencer's lips.

“Order in the lines!” A guard walked down from the door and looked at the man behind Spencer with dark eyes. “Keep your hands to yourself Hankel. I remember you from your last visit, and if you don't behave yourself I'll make this stay a visit to Hell on Earth.” His eyes shifted and rested on Spencer. “And you better move to the front of the queue.” He grabbed Spencer's arm and all but dragged him. “Keep away from Tobias Hankel – he only means trouble,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth and Spencer felt his eyes tear up at the first show of humanity and compassion the entire day. He bit his lip and tried to man up, but he was just so exhausted from all the new impressions. The guard gave his arm a small squeeze. “If there's any trouble ask for Hotch. I can't do everything but you somehow remind me of my son. And I'd like to think that there would be someone to watch out for him if he was in you situation.”

Spencer opened his mouth to thank his new almost-friend when the door opened. Spencer was a tall man but somehow he found him self staring right into the word 'Mom' tattooed on the chest of a big broad chested man. He smiled and winked at a gaping Spencer as he passed.

“Next.” The voice from the other side of the door bellowed.

Spencer ducked his head and hurried inside the door hoping to find a refuge in the doctor's keep. A gray-haired man, with deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth looked at him from the other side of a big mahogany desk.

“Name?” he inquired and peered at him over the rim of his glasses.

“S-Spencer Reid, sir.” The doctor might have given him a small smile, but Spencer didn't feel entirely sure. He looked down from the nervously fidgeting figure and flipped through the heap of files on the desk.

“Okay. Please go stand at the wall. Yes, and now rest your arms against the wall and stick your bottom a bit out for me. Perfect.” Spencer closed his eyes and bit in his lip. What was this kind of health-check? “Now, for being such a polite and attractive young man, I will do this the gentle way.” Spencer's eyes popped open as to fingers entered his anus without any further warning. He bit his lip till it bled and reminded himself that he wasn't back in Vegas and that the man behind him wasn't any of his boyfriends. The fingers left his opening and he heard the snap as the doctor pulled off the plastic glove.

“That wasn't the first time now, was it?” He smiled when Spencer turned around and faced him, with a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I could tell. You really took it like a good boy.” He sat down on the far side of the big desk and glanced at Spencer over his glasses. “But you really should expect something like it to happen to you here. Several times probably. I just hope I won't be seeing you at the infirmary too son.” He winked. “Not all of our boys are as gentle as me.”

Spencer left the office and felt even more hopeless.

“Next.” The doctor called as Spencer exited the office and staggered in the direction the men before him had disappeared.

“Everybody line up.”

The sound of quietly shuffling feet rose as all the orange-clad men heaved themselves up from their resting positions on the floor and against the walls. Spencer did his best to walk extra slowly and finally joined the line on the farthest left closest to the door they had arrived from. He really hoped this would be the end of the line.

The guard who had called himself Hotch appeared from the door.

“We will now walk your sorry carcasses to the cell you will live in for the next varying period of time. There will be no sulking, no whining, bickering, complaining nor pouting when you're assigned to the cell. There will be no trading among yourselves, and we really need a good reason to make that happen. We will also be appointing jobs.”

“Don't worry Doll, I've got connections. If we hook up I can even get you into the kitchen,” the big man next to Spencer whispered. Hotch was standing in front of them almost before the man had stopped speaking. “Hankel – I've arranged for you to do laundry. And if I hear another peep from you I'll make sure you stay down there for the rest of your 6 years.” Hotch stepped back and glanced at the men gathered in front of him.

“Before we go, I might as well introduce myself.” Spencer noticed the man called Hankel roll his eyes at Hotch's words, apparently so did Hotch himself too. “Hankel – laundry for at least 6 months.” He let his eyes wander from inmate to inmate. “I am Aaron Hotchner. I may be a mere prison guard, but I have more power than inspector Strauss. I know all of your names. I know why you're here and for how long we can hope to keep you. I know the names of your spouses, your kids and of your mothers. I know who of you like to 'slide it in the backdoor' and I'll be watching you guys the closest. If you keep on my good side, I will help you. If you cross me you will join Hankel and the other rotten elements in the laundry basement. That is not an amusing job.” With his brow furrowed into a mean scowl he let his eyes wander from face to face from the right to the left. Spencer felt a bit hopeful as the stern look lighted up a bit when he looked at him.

“We expect your cooperation and fall down hard if you fight back. Now we all walk out in one neat line following our new best friend Kevin Lynch, as he will guide us to the sleeping area.” He gestured to a broad shouldered man, with thick rimmed glasses and a grin that split his face in half who stood at the door on the far right. Spencer had to lean forward a bit to see him.

“Alright ladies. Off to Block C.”

“We probably won't be placed in the same cell, Lover, not with Hotch being so fond of you and all that,” Hankel said in a hushed voice as Hotch stood in the front and directed the new inmates into different cells. “But rest assured, that I will find you eventually.”

Spencer felt his heart sink and hoped that he would never see the man again. He tried to look in to the room in front of them but Hankel was too big. There was nothing to do but to wait for people to be assigned to their cells and the line to move forward.

When he finally entered the room he wished he could run and hide.

There were two floors with nothing but cells. Spencer gasped and looked around with big frightened eyes as he took in the enormous amount of orange-clad men only separated from him by a single line of bars and 8 guards standing with a gun each.

“Fresh meat.” Spencer hear a voice call to his left and the he looked around confused when the call was repeated down the line on cells.

“Oy chico. Come keep me company – I feel so lonely at night.”

“Let Daddy here take care of ya.”

“Nice piece of ass you're packing there honey.”

“My bunks empty querido, I'll just sleep on top of you.”

“They're talking about you Gorgeous.” Hankel said over the hundreds of voices crying out their proposals and compliments. Spencer grew pale and the urge to run was only stopped when the guard called Kevin Lynch stepped next to him.

“I wish I could say that there's nothing to it, but I don't want to lie to you.” He gave Spencer a pitying look. “Hurry up and hook up with one of the big shots. That's the only way to stay alive in here.” Spencer let his eyes wander from cell to cell cursing the day he started gambling.

A dark pair of eyes stopped Spencer's from wandering on.

A black man stood leaning up against the wall in a cell to Spencer's left. His stance was relaxed but the eyes looked him over appreciatively. Spencer felt a jolt of something nice and a small seed of hope might have been planted.

“Hankel, Tobias. Laundry service, Cell 3-165, Feldon, Cooper and Rossi.” Spencer drew his eyes from the black man and watched as Hankel was dragged by two guards away from Spencer.

“I'll see you soon Gorgeous. And next time I'll bring some friends.” Laughter and cat-calls sounded from all the cells surrounding Spencer and the echo doubled the amount of sounds throwing them back at him making him start to feel rather lightheaded.

“Reid, Spencer.” Hotch read aloud from a piece of paper. Spencer frowned when Hotch didn't continue and realized what made him pause. All the prisoners had fallen completely and eerily quiet.

“Library duty, Cell 3-018, Conrad, Garcia and Black.” Spencer looked terrified at Hotch who gave him a small smile in reply.

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