Disclaimer: I'm a white, pansexual cis woman who literally grew up in the church (parents were one of eight couples who started up a church when I was three), but after having issues with the church's hypocrisy in many areas, including sexuality, I left the church and currently identify as an agnostic atheist, though I still attend church every other week as part of my work. My experiences were/are nowhere as extreme as what I'm writing about; because of this, I researched ex-gay practices, read ex-ex-gay people's accounts of their experiences, listened to sermons made by anti-gay preachers, and watched multiple documentaries regarding LGBT individuals and the church, including one specifically about ex-gay ministries. I've also consulted with people whose experiences were more extreme than my own. This is not a condemnation of religion as a whole, much less religious individuals.

Chapter Warnings: Non-graphic mentions of bullying, suicide, sexual abuse, and abuse of power.

Chapter 1 - Feel The Whole Earth Move

One of the best things about writing under a pseudonym was that Spencer never had to come up with aliases and rarely had to doctor up a new history the few times he decided to go undercover to get an insider's view on the subject he'd picked. Even within Dave Rossi's publishing company, Spencer was listed as an editor. It's not entirely untrue either; he has edited other people's work between books while waiting for his inspiration to return.

His latest book on The Genessee River Killer, Arthur Shawcross, had been a bestseller and it was a relief. Nearly all his profits went to his mother's care, which had only gotten more expensive as time went on; the pressure to succeed was always intensified by that. Spencer often felt guilty that he hadn't pursued a career in science or law, especially after researching his last book. Instead, he'd ended up in a writing class and at the urging of his professor, Spencer wrote his first book at age thirteen under his first pseudonym. Because he was so young, Professor Blake helped him pitch it around until Rossi picked it up. The book had been so profitable that he never finished college and he found himself still writing books of various genres twelve years later.

Sometimes, Spencer wished he could go back, but Bennington Sanitarium was the best and his mother deserved the best. Besides, the money that didn't go to her care was split between bills and rent and a savings account he'd set up in case he ever developed schizophrenia himself. There was no money left over to do frivolous things like taking college classes.

This time when inspiration struck, Spencer hadn't even been looking for an idea. He'd just been trying to enjoy life a little by going to the local Pride parade. There he'd been handed a flier for an "ex-gay survivors" support group. Spencer was immediately intrigued, even though he didn't know what "ex-gay" meant, let alone an "ex-gay survivor." When Spencer looked up the terms at home, he knew this would be his next story.

Hell, he might even be able to help some people by writing about it.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this," Rossi says from behind his desk.

Spencer frowns; Rossi's daughter, Ashley, had committed suicide because of the bullying she received for her perceived sexuality and LGBT issues have been important to Rossi ever since. "I don't understand; what are you hung up on?"

"Goddammit Spencer! I'm thinking of your fucking mental health," Rossi growls. "Do you realize how damaging that shit can be? Even if you don't believe this shit right now, if doing this messes you up in any way, I'll be responsible. Do you get that?"

Fuck. "Well, I'll...I could get a therapist, one that I see on a regular basis to keep me from having a breakdown. What if I did that?" he asks. "And if the therapist thought it was too much, then I'd stop immediately."

"No, you wouldn't," Rossi states with conviction.

"No, I wouldn't," Spencer agrees. "But you know I'm going to do this whether or not you're on board, so you might as well order me to see a therapist as part of the contract."

"You're such a fucking asshole."

"Well, I'll fit right in with the evangelical church I'm joining then, eh?" Spencer chuckles, hoping a joke will help.

"Somehow, I doubt that, but okay, okay...I'll draw up the contract," Rossi says, sighing. "But on top of a therapist, I'm going to stipulate that you talk to some ex-gay survivors first. You need to get a rundown on what you'll be dealing with and I'm sure you can get some good chapters out of those interviews anyway."

"Fine, if I have to."

Rossi glares at him. "You'll be thanking me later."

"Aren't I always?" Spencer smiles. "Well, I should go start researching where exactly I can find a 'good' ex-gay program...say hi to Erin for me, won't you?"

Rossi puts his head in his hands. "She's gonna kill me for letting you do this."

"Wouldn't be the first time either," he says, quickly ducking out of his boss' office before Rossi can change his mind.

After much debating, Spencer settled near Memphis, Tennessee for his research. Perhaps it wasn't the most anti-gay place he could have chosen, but he'd decided stranding himself in the middle of Utah might not be the smartest decision. He reasoned he could always go further south, if he needed to.

While it wouldn't be his first stop, Memphis was home to an intensive live-in program affiliated with Love In Action, a big name in ex-gay therapy. Besides that, the city also boasted a mega church that was affiliated with Exodus International, the largest network of Christian ministries focusing on converting homosexuals. Their preacher, Charles Hankel, was well-known for his beliefs that homosexual behavior was sinful, that homosexuals needed treatment, and that homosexuality could be cured, if only homosexuals prayed hard enough. Between the live in program and the church, Spencer figured he wouldn't have to go far to find an ex-gay program to enroll in.

It also meant it hadn't been hard to track down an ex-gay survivor group either.

As he enters the coffee shop, a petite blond woman strides towards him with purpose.

"Hi, my name's Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone," she says.

"Spencer Reid," he states as she shakes his hand, her grip firm and practiced. "It's very nice to meet you Jennifer."

"Oh please, call me JJ. All my friends do."

He smiles and looks towards the table JJ had been sitting at. "Is Mr. Hotchner here yet?"

"No," JJ says, "Hotch's first ex-wife was running a little late, so he'll get here once she picks up their son."

"First?"

"Well, I was his second...hell, he was my second too," she says with a chuckle, herding him towards the table. "As you've probably figured, none of it took."

"No, I don't suppose it would."

"I think it could have worked between Hotch and I, if we'd both been straight, you know? It's just...we work so well together, thinking of things the other needs without being asked. When we met at a program, that much was obvious and our leader thought a marriage would help us 'work out our issues,' if we both tried hard enough, of course." She smirks before frowning slightly. "But we were utterly miserable, forcing ourselves to be something we're not." She takes a sip of her coffee as the waitress takes Spencer's order. "So now we actually work together with our survivors group."

"How does that work?" Spencer asks.

"Well, it's like most self-help groups, but we also have a psychologist who joins us every other week to make sure everything's on board." He must look confused because JJ quickly continues, "You have to realize that most ex-gay programs are structured like self-help groups as well, but there's rarely a psychologist and if there is a psychologist, he's likely had his license revoked. Ah, there's Hotch."

Tall, dark, and handsome definitely applies to Mr. Hotchner and he moves across the room with the air of a prosecutor. "Hey, sorry guys...Haley started a new job and I've been helping with Jack while she gets on her feet."

"Not a problem," Spencer assures, standing to shake the other man's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you Mr. Hotchner."

He smiles. "The pleasure is all mine, but really, please call me Hotch. Everyone does."

"I was just telling him about Penelope's role in the group," JJ says, as the waitress drops off Spencer's coffee and scone.

"Oh yeah, it definitely helps to have a gay-friendly psychologist come into the group because they've only been taught to feel shame and guilt regarding their sexuality. All of them have had such bad experiences with the ex-gay 'approved' therapists, that it's a bit of a struggle at first," Hotch explains. "In fact, a few of our survivors have been sexually abused by their program-sanctioned therapists, so..."

"Wait, what?" Spencer interrupts, stunned by the revelation that the people who put themselves in such programs were at an even greater risk than he'd initially realized.

"A position of power plus a hell of a lot of repression doesn't tend to breed the healthiest situations," Hotch says, grimacing. "The worst part is that most of them don't recognize it as abuse and end up beating themselves up over 'falling off the wagon' instead."

"Yeah, it's pretty terrible," JJ continues, "but once the survivors see that they can trust her and that she actually knows what she's talking about, most of them see Penelope on the side too. Ex-gay survivors are actually her specialty." She pauses, worrying her lip between her teeth. "Which church did you say you were going to attend?"

"Central Church."

The pair exchange looks. "You need to be careful of the group leader and the preacher," Hotch states. "Even though the preacher's son claims he was only abused by a male babysitter, there were some inconsistencies in his story, like how a certain song triggered him, but it hadn't even been on the radio until his teenage years."

"If nothing else, he's definitely the leader's type," JJ points out, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

"Is there somewhere else you'd suggest I go?" Spencer asks, hoping there was a program less dangerous for him to attend.

"Not without having a long drive or moving again," JJ says, "but the biggest problem is that it's an issue at any place you'd end up at. At least with this church, you'll know who's a clear threat."

Hotch nods. "Most people would say to never be alone with them and that would be good advice if it weren't nearly impossible to follow. My advice? If you get yourself into a sticky situation, tell the person that you don't want to mess up your 'recovery' and that whatever they're doing is making you want to backslide and then get the hell out of there as soon as possible."

"Yeah," JJ agrees, "mention God and sin, anything that will make them feel guilty or ashamed about what they're doing because that's bound to make them back off, even if it is a bit...morally questionable to do so. You gotta look out for you first."

"Anything else I should know?" Spencer asks.

JJ takes a sip of her coffee. "Well, what's your backstory?"

"I figure my life story is probably good enough since I was a 'sensitive child' who was bad at sports. I probably get some bonus points for my dad walking out on my mom and I when I was ten, right?" Spencer jokes.

Hotch grins. "I see you've been doing your research...they'll definitely eat that up. How about your mom? Overbearing? Too loving?"

"Well, she...on her good days, yeah." Spencer looks away.

"Chronic illness?" JJ asks. Spencer nods, thankful for the neutral term. "Oh, don't worry, they'll love that too. They'll happily mold their crackpot theories to make your experiences fit within their ridiculous ideas about how people 'end up' gay."

Spencer sighs.

"Here's our numbers and Penelope's too, but one more thing," JJ says, looking troubled. "I know you're going to have to spend some one-on-one time with them to get their stories, but don't get too close. It'll hurt too much when you leave and they don't."

As they part ways, Spencer can't stop thinking about that warning; given her obvious discomfort at any mention of Central Church, he wonders if perhaps there was someone there that JJ wishes had left with her.

Despite the fact that he went in knowing that the congregation at Central Church would be large, Spencer wasn't quite expecting it to be so impersonal. People were friendly, but distant, sticking mostly to the people they already knew. It made sense; the size of the congregation made it more difficult to spot newcomers. That was fine by Spencer because it gave him more time to observe without interruption.

Sitting in church was a strange experience for Spencer. On her good days, his mother expressed little interest in religion and at one point, Diana sat him down and rationally explained why she was an atheist; on her bad days, she thought the Christian god and his religious followers were part of a government group, sent to watch their every move. It really only seemed to apply to the Christian god though because there were a handful of really bad days where she claimed a couple of the Greek gods were speaking to her.

Charles Hankel was as conservative as preachers get, in all areas of belief - women were to be subservient to men, evolution had no place in schools but prayer did, the Bible was infallible because it was the literal word of God, and heaven forbid any of the congregation vote Democrat in the next election. Even sermons that were not directly about the sins of homosexuality were peppered with homophobic comments and insinuations. At times, Spencer was convinced the preacher truly believed that "committing homosexual acts" was worse than all actual sins combined.

Perhaps the most painful part was knowing that Charles' son, Tobias, was gay and had to sit through such public condemnations every week. If Charles really had abused Tobias...well, that thought sat in Spencer's gut like a stone.

Overall, it made Spencer glad that he hadn't just leapt right into a program; based on the limited knowledge he'd acquired a few years back when he visited various New York churches, it seemed as though each church denomination had their own language and each church within its denomination had its own dialect. He had assumed it would be better to learn the "language" first and each Sunday only confirmed that he'd been right. The rhetoric - and the confusing "logic" that went with it - was much easier for him to understand as time went on.

His sixth Sunday, he's in the lobby, waiting for the service to start, when a man with flawless brown skin and some of the most fabulous muscles sidles up next to him. Spencer wonders if the man realizes just how flirtatious that move is; he doubts it, but damn if he isn't wishing they're at a bar rather than an extremely homophobic church.

"You're new."

Spencer laughs. "Is it really obvious?"

"Pretty boy, there ain't too many guys with long hair around here and I know them all," the man says confidently. As Spencer grins at the statement, the man frowns and a slight panic shine in his eyes. "I mean, it's...you're...I shouldn't have called you that."

"It's not the worst I've been called, but for future reference, my name is Spencer Reid," he teases, putting his hand forward.

The man's lip curls up in a half-smile before taking Spencer's hand, lingering a bit longer than Spencer thinks he meant to. "Derek Morgan, glad to meet you. So...are you new to town or just Central Church?"

"Well, I got in from New York awhile ago," Spencer says. He looks down, hoping it will read more as nervous and shameful than flirty. "I came here because I was thinking about participating in some, uhh...programs."

"Oh?" Derek asks. He covertly glances at Spencer's arms - so perhaps a cop, fellow addict, or both - before giving him a once over. "For your umm...attractions?"

Spencer wants to be open, to just be able to say 'yes, of course I'm here because I'm queer' rather than play this game, but the last thing he wants to do was scare off a potential friend, especially one that's so attractive.

"Yeah, I mean..." Spencer starts.

"No, that's...good, really good. I've been attending them and I'm doing much better."

The flirting from earlier make him doubtful, but Spencer's curiosity is piqued. "Really?"

"Definitely," Derek says, smiling. "I hope it'll help you too."

"Thanks. Well, look's like the service is about to start...do you want to sit with me?"

And there's that panicked look again. "No, I've got people I'm supposed to sit with. Uh, see you around though?"

"You bet."

A/N - Technically, I started writing this in July/August, but it was slow going until the last month or two and I didn't want to put it out there without having a buffer (since I have a terrible habit of taking a very long time writing chaptered stuff). I'm going to release chapters on a biweekly basis because I only have 4 of the 7-8 chapters done (plus 2 chapters are partially written). This should give me plenty of time to get it all done on time.

A huge huge huge thanks to my beta, lilijuliet, without whom this would not be possible. I love you and you are also quite terrible. ;-)