DAISY {S.R X READER}

Escape

I was frozen in my spot, my mouth dry. His smile made my stomach twist and the bile rise in my throat. It was like I could feel his hands on me all over again. I thought I was free, I thought this was over. It was supposed to be over.

"Come on, tell them!" His raised voice caused me to flinch and even though he was cuffed, I was terrified he'd beat me.

Spencer Reid stepped in front of me then, blocking Cal's view of me. "Hey? Why don't you come with me and I'll get you something to drink? Yeah?" Spencer Reid waited for me to nod; my arms wrapped tightly around myself in protection. He looked behind me at someone before leading me away. That someone was a tall woman with raven hair and a kind smile. But it was hard to pay attention to anything with Cal's screaming.

"Where are you going? Hey! You cant take her! That's my daughter! Are you listening to me?" With each word I shrunk into myself more and more, my shaking hands moving to cover my ears like a child. I wasn't his daughter and I wasn't going to defend him.

I hadn't realized I was sobbing until I sat down and Cal's voice turned into a muffled sound from the shut door. My hands moved from my ears to rest in my lap. I felt like I was going to vomit.

No, actually, I was going to vomit.

"E-emily I think she's going to-" the woman, whose name I now knew was Emily, was quick to bring the trash under me as I emptied my stomach. My coughing filling the otherwise silent room.

"No! Don't touch her!" I froze again. Emily's hand went back to her side at Spencer Reid's statement. I was grateful.

Spencer Reid put down a Styrofoam cup next to me. I peeked inside and found it was just water. But I was still weary and it was clear he noticed. "It's just water, I promise." I looked up at him from under my lashes before looking back into the cup. "I'll show you."

He stood, walking to where the cups where and grabbing one before coming back to sit across from me. I watched him with confusion as he leaned over the table and grabbed my cup, pouring some into his own before taking a sip. I cant put into words the way that made me feel. Happy? Ecstatic? I was so used to drugs being in almost everything I drank.

I gulped that water down quickly, barely breathing until I finished all of it. Emily and Spencer looked at me with soft eyes once I put the cup down, sliding it closer to Spencer before sitting back in my chair. I smiled at him gently, my nerves calming down just a little.

"Is it okay if I ask you a couple yes or no questions?" Spencers voice was soft, like any louder would break me. And in a way, he was right. I nodded and he smiled.

"Is he your father?" I violently shook my head no. That man was no where near my father. "Okay! Okay, it's okay. He cant hurt you. As long as I'm here, he cant hurt you." I looked at my hands, tugging on them gently.

"Did he keep you in his house?" I nodded. "Okay, good. Good."

Emily spoke up next, but not before placing six photos in front of me, "do you know any of these women?" I carefully looked them over one by one and making two piles. A pile for those I knew, and a pile for the ones I didn't. I knew 4/6. She smiled at me, "okay good!"

"Do you know your name?" I nodded at Spencer question. Of course I knew my name. But he hadn't earned the right to know it as well. "Good! That's good!"

I watched as his tongue poked out to wet his lips, "by using your fingers, can you show me how long he's had you?" I gulped before holding up all ten of my fingers. "Ten years?" I nodded.

"Oh my god..." Emily muttered. I only heard it because I'd trained myself to listen for everything.

"Can you tell me how old you are? By your fingers?" I held up two fingers on each hand. "22?" I nodded. "Okay. We need to get you to a hospital to have to checked out. Is that okay?"

I curled in on myself at his question. The idea of being in an environment that had a chance of being unsafe is terrifying. But the idea of being away from Spencer was even worse. He was kind and he understood me without me using words. It was like he could read my mind. I wanted him to come with me, I needed him to protect me. I was scared I'd be brushed off by the doctors or labeled as 'crazy' or a 'hypochondriac'.

Spencer could see I was weary when I didn't immediately answer him, "what if I come with you?" I perked up as he continued, "we'll have an officer outside the door and I'll stay with you. Would that be okay? I promise he will never hurt you again."

I wanted to cry at how relieved I felt. To know this was finally over. To know he couldn't touch me anymore. I was free. Finally, finally free.

....

"Jane Doe. 22. Captive for 10 years. Signs of sexual assault and abuse." I listened to the stats the doctor was giving to Spencer and the officer. I sat on the hospital bed in a hospital gown while I waited. "It seems she has select mutism, probably from being abused. PTSS and is very untrusting."

All of it was true. So very true. My heart hurt at the diagnosis she—my doctor—was reading off. Spencer had specifically requested an all-female staff and officer to make me more comfortable. I was grateful.

"Daisy," Spencer mumbled. I lifted my head, confusion most definitely mirroring the doctors and nurses.

She shook her head, "I'm sorry?"

"Call her 'Daisy'." Spencer looked at me for a moment before turning back to my care team, "she isn't some corpse. She's living and one day will be able to give us her name. She's not a nobody. She's a daisy; it symbolizes new beginnings. So, call her Daisy."