Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds and no copyright infringement is intended
A/N: This is my entry into the 2010 challenge. My characters were Prentiss/Dianna Reid and my song was Starry Starry Night
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All the hustle and bustle of the day seemed to have quieted now, and the hallway lights were dimmed. The nurses, flashlights in hand, seemed to walk silently on their rubber soled shoes. The only noise was the occasional word spoken between them over the incessant beeping and humming of the machinery that kept their patients alive, and the sound of a woman's voice, softly reading to the patient in cubicle six of the ICU at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit.
The lights were also dimmed in the ICU waiting room, aptly named Emily Prentiss thought, as the people in the room waited impatiently for word on the condition of their friend and teammate. Hotch sat, stoic as always, staring straight ahead, betraying none of the emotions he must be feeling. Rossi talked quietly on the phone to Garcia, assuring her they would call as soon as there was any word. She must be feeling helpless. Emily could see her, cloistered in her office, with only the air waves to keep her in contact with the ones she loved. If there was anything they needed right now, it was Garcia's bright and lively spirit to reassure them that everything would be all right. Morgan wouldn't sit. He just paced like a caged tiger, wanting desperately, but restraining himself, from putting his fist through a wall or the next person who entered the room.
They all wanted to be with Reid, but Henry Ford Hospital only allowed two visitors at once and, right now, Dianna and William Reid were by his side, along with one of the nurses from Bennington, should Dianna become agitated. They'd all seen how torn Hotch had been when the injury first happened, and the doctors had said their youngest agent's condition was critical, and his prognosis, uncertain. Should he call Dianna Reid? She was his mother, his next of kin. Could she handle something like this? Should he call William Reid? Their relationship was rocky at best. Or, should he just be kept in the arms of his other family, each who loved him like he was one of their own. In the end, he had elected to call William and inform him of Reid's condition and Reid's father could work with the people at Bennington in deciding what would be in the best interest of Reid and his mother.
The plane had landed about an hour ago. Dianna Reid had been sedated for the flight and besides railing for a short time about the government, she had been relatively quiet. She seemed to take in the seriousness of the situation. They had no idea what William or the staff at Bennington had done to prepare her for this.
Emily almost laughed; how could anyone be prepared for this. How could anyone be prepared to see her son lying in a bed, IVs infusing into a central line in his neck, machines monitoring every bodily function, and those beautiful expressive eyes closed to the world? She had started to sag but William had been behind her to catch her. They'd gotten a chair for her to sit by the bed while William talked with the doctors. She'd stood after a few moments and Emily wanted to rush over to her and hold her up, but she kept one hand on the side rail while her long fingers swept through his thick dark hair. So that's where he got those fingers, Emily found herself thinking, inanely, in the midst of this serious situation. They'd all been shooed into the waiting room and had heard nothing since.
The door to the ICU opened and they all stood as Dianna Reid walked out with her nurse. "Dianna just wants a little air," Pam Kelso informed them. "We're going to go outside and sit in the courtyard for a few minutes."
"I'll go with you," Emily replied, stepping forward. She was not about to let anything happen to Reid's mother.
They rode down to the first floor silently and Emily showed her badge to the security guard at the entrance, informing him that they were going to get some air. He looked unsure for a few moments until Emily slid back her jacket to reveal her sidearm. "We'll be fine."
The threesome found some benches in the courtyard around a fountain. Emily and Pam got Dianna seated and then Pam sat on another bench off to the side where she could see and hear her patient, but not be directly involved in the conversation. The two women sat in silence for a while and then Dianna remarked, "You're as pretty as he said you were." Dianna saw Emily's eyebrows rise. "He tells me all about all of you in his letters. I was just saying, you're as pretty as he said."
"Th…thank you," Emily replied, and then fell silent for a few moments. "It's all my fault," she finally blurted out.
"What do you mean?" Dianna asked.
"R..I mean, Spencer, he's in that bed because of me." Dianna said nothing in reply. "We were searching for an unsub, I mean, a rapist…"
Dianna put her hand over Emily's. "He writes me every day. I know what an unsub is."
"He had a hideout in a forested area south of here. Reid and I were together. I thought I heard something and went to investigate. The unsub saw me, was behind me, and would have shot me but Reid spotted him, shouted my name and shot him just before he would have got me." She stopped for a moment. "As I was turning around, I saw this other man striking R…Spencer on the head with this large piece of wood. I fired and I killed him." She stopped again. "We didn't know there were two. All the DNA we had said it was only one, but they were twins, identical, same DNA; we never figured on that, they'd lived off the grid all their lives." She thought suddenly of their trip to Lower Canaan where Reid had proposed the idea of an evil twin and an eviler twin. Those words seemed to haunt her now. "If I'd have stayed with him, it probably wouldn't have happened."
She waited for Dianna to give her hell, she wanted her to, but, instead, she just looked up at the clear sky. The heat of the day had given way to a lovely warm evening with just the slightest breeze.
"Lots of stars," Dianna said, as if they had just stopped to rest in the middle of a pleasant evening stroll and Emily had never made her confession.
"Yes, it is indeed a starry night," Emily admitted.
"My favorite painting of Van Gogh's"
Suddenly Emily shivered, despite the warm night. She looked up at the hospital window and the dim light from the floor where her friend fought for his life, the words of an old song sending a chill coursing through her body. This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.