A/n hello everyone. This is going to be a multi chapter song fic partially based on Kelly Clarkson's single, "Because of you." Please let me know what you think as you always do. As always a big thanks goes out to my excellent beta REIDFANATIC, for all of her help and support.
Disclaimer: Only unrecognizable characters are owned by me. No copyright infringement of CM or the song "Because of you," is intended with this posting.
I will not make the same mistakes that you did. I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery. I will not break, the way you did. You fell so hard; I've learned the hard way, to never let it get that far
The Call
The conference room off the bullpen of Chicago's fifteenth precinct was unusually quiet as the team busied itself with their latest serial murder. This was the third victim since the team had arrived a week ago, and they were getting nowhere.
The stale smell of coffee, and a tiny whiff of sugar from the ever present and ever cliché donuts wafted in anytime someone opened the door, as did the sound of officers on the phone, screams from detainees for their lawyers, and the sobs of victims looking for the ever elusive justice for all that never seemed to be meant for them.
Rossi was scouring the case files with Hotch, trying to find anything they missed with victimology. Morgan and Prentiss were talking to the victims' families, and JJ was talking to the detective who was primary on the case.
Reid straightened up from his crouched position in front of the city's map. The new victims should have made the job of a geographical profile easier, but he wasn't getting anywhere with it.
He looked at his watch and decided that enough was enough. It was time to call in the big guns. It was time to call in Garcia and her babies.
"You've reached the all seeing and all knowing Penelope Garcia, speak fortunate mortal."
"Hey Garcia, I need your help."
"I'm flattered sweet cheeks. What can I do for ya?"
"I need help with a geographical profile. It's not fitting together the way it should."
"You sound frustrated gorgeous, I can't have that now can I. What's got you confused?"
"All the victims…"
His phone beeped, interrupting them with another incoming call. A very familiar number flashed on the caller id. "Hey Garcia… I've got another call coming in. I have to take it." He hung up on her and took the call.
"This is Dr. Reid." Nervous knots twisted in his gut like tangled rope.
"Dr Reid… This is Dr. Sarah Halcom. Your mother had a stroke this morning."
Reid had stuck a finger in his ear, and didn't hear Hotch call out to him when he left, white faced and shaking.
"How is she? Will she be okay? What's her condition?" He asked without waiting for a response.
"I'd rather get into that in person. Can you come?"
"Ah - yeah… I'll be there as soon as I can."
He shut his phone, and leaned up against the white painted block walls of the police station. He ignored the cops and suspects, and various other personnel that passed him in the hall. They openly stared at him, but for once in his life he didn't see their eyes.
Get a grip Spencer; she's going to be okay. The doctor didn't say how bad the stroke was.
Then why did she say she needed to see you in person. It has to be really bad it she wants you to come out to Bennington. Oh God…
His breathing was speeding up to the point that his vision was beginning to get fuzzy, and he felt so dizzy and sick to his stomach he nearly fainted… would have fainted if someone hadn't grabbed his arm and steered him into an interrogation room.
"My God… Spence what happened." She asked pushing him down into a chair.
He had to ignore her question in favor of putting his head between his knees. His stomach hurt and the nausea wouldn't go away, just like all the thoughts and questions that were battling for dominance in his head.
"Hey… Do you want some water?"
He straightened up slowly and took the paper cup of water JJ had brought him. It tasted cool and it stayed down, even though his stomach still wanted to jump out of his gut.
JJ sat down across the table and watched him silently sip the water till it was gone. "Is everything ok?" She asked tentatively.
"Yeah… ah - no… I have to go to Nevada." He stood up, swaying a bit, still feeling dizzy and breathless.
"Nevada, but Spence…"
"My m-mom had an s-stroke. I h-have to go." He left her staring after him for a long minute, till she realized someone needed to tell Hotch.
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The cab sped through downtown Chicago toward O'Hare Airport. It's only occupant besides the driver stared out the window at the passing buildings. There were people in the apartments and town homes, turning on lights as they got home from jobs. They would be making dinner, or going out to eat just like any other family.
Just like a normal family, you mean. You never had a normal family, did you?
Yeah… he had a normal family once, or what passed for one for awhile, but then his father left. His mother got lost inside herself, and then it was just him trying to survive in a world made for adults, not skinny, nearsighted kids with giant intellects.
His phone buzzed impatiently at him interrupting his thoughts with its demands. "Reid," He answered mechanically.
"Reid… its Hotch, Are you alright? JJ told me your mother is ill.
"Yeah… I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm on my way to the airport. I have to see her. They won't tell me over the phone how she is. That means its bad right!"
"You don't know that Reid. You should've told me, I'd have sent you on the jet."
"It's okay Hotch; I'll take a commercial flight. I don't know how long I'll be gone."
"Don't worry about that. Call me when you know something."
"Okay…"
His phone went back into his pocket as the cab pulled up to the curb in front of the automatic doors to the concourse. All the way through checking in, and then waiting for the flight, he was in a fog, doing everything out of habit.
His seat in first class was next to the window. He didn't have a seat mate which he didn't even care about. He stared out the window and tried to ignore the feeling of terrible emptiness in his stomach. He should have gone to see her more often. He shouldn't have insulted her with daily letters that were trite and didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. He should have stayed closer to her and taken a job that would allow him to see her every week. She must hate him for neglecting her and now…
Stop it! You don't know what condition she's in. She's probably had a mild stroke and the doctor is being overly cautious.
He didn't pay attention to the pilot announcing take off or the safety lecture at the beginning of the flight. He didn't feel the plane take off with a swooping sensation in his stomach, or hear the roar of the engines as they taxied down the runway.
He went over and over again the causes of a stroke, blockages, clots, or a vessel bursting in the brain. Which had it been? He didn't know. Why wouldn't they tell him over the phone?
Statistics about the death rate and recovery rate of stroke victims wouldn't leave his head and he didn't hear the flight attendant ask him if he wanted a drink. She took a closer look at the white and sunken face with circles so dark under his eyes, he looked like a corpse.
Something bad happened, maybe someone died. That's why he's on this flight!
She made a mental note to let the other attendants know to leave him alone unless he signaled for one of them. Her mother died just last year and she knew that look from her own mirror.
The plane landed hours later and after negotiating the crowded airport full of tourists and businessmen, he made his way to the baggage claim area and then out to hail a cab. The cabbie tried to get him to talk, but Reid ignored him. The man eventually stopped trying and lapsed into comfortable silence. Not everyone was talkative to cabbies and he was cool with that.
The lights of the city didn't faze him as they did the 30 million visitors that crowded its streets every year. The purples, golds and reds of the signs flashing on and off, didn't catch his eyes the way it had when he was a little boy. The only thing he could see was the face of his mother when she screamed at him for his betrayal in putting her into Bennington.
The cab finally came to a stop in front of the hotel JJ had booked for him, along with his flight. He didn't know what he would do without her help. It was a pretty impressive hotel, and his room was much larger, and more elaborate than he'd ever stayed in with the team on a case.
The interior was decorated in blues and greens. It was a full suite with a living room and bedroom. The bedspread on the big king sized bed was patterned in blue, gold and white with matching pillow shams and a big fluffy comforter folded at the foot of the bed. The bed stood on a raised platform, and to the left was a large picture window that didn't open. High rollers stayed in this room and Reid wondered briefly what JJ was thinking booking a room like this on the corporate card. The window didn't open since high rollers were known at times to take a high dive out hotel windows, and end up on the eleven o clock news.
The bellboy had unlocked the door and was arranging the luggage on a rack next to the closet. His uniform was dark blue with gold braiding at the shoulders. He wore a matching cap on his mop of orange hair. His freckled face was so fresh that Reid was sure he was about five minutes out of high school.
The young man moved to open one of the bags when Spencer stopped him. "Leave it," He handed the man a tip that was more than enough to make up for his tone, and the young man tipped his cap and left Spencer alone.
The bathroom was to the right and had an enormous triangle shaped jetted tub. There was a long black marble counter top with gold inlay and gold fixtures. There were all kinds of bath and toiletries lining it and a coffee pot with gourmet coffee for brewing in the morning.
At the other end of the room from the bed was a large carved cabinet that opened onto a flat screen TV and DVD player. There was a selection of all the latest moviesstacked to one side. He finished looking around the room, noting the location of a desk and a couple of comfortable looking chairs and a sofa all done in matching sea tones.
Stop stalling and go hail a cab. You don't know how much longer she has to live!
The truth of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks. They wouldn't have called him here like this if it wasn't serious or even fatal. Here he was wasting time just like always, but something wouldn't let his feet move back toward the door.
Yeah… you don't want to see her even now. You should be disgusted with yourself. She's your mother!
The voice in his head was right. He was a disgrace as a son. He left his luggage, but clutched his messenger bag to his chest like a life preserver as he left the room and headed to the elevator.
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The cab left him off in front of the University Hospital where his mother had been transferred from Bennington Sanitarium. He headed into Admissions and was directed to the seventh floor and to ICU. The nurse at the desk when he stepped off the elevator instructed him to wait in the family waiting room for Dr. Pramjit Singh, the neurologist, to come speak with him.
"I'm a doctor and I took care of my mother for most of my childhood. You can tell me what I need to know without the doctor." Reid insisted, leaving out the part that he wasn't a medical doctor on purpose.
The nurse frowned up at him. Everyone said doctors made the worst patients, when in reality they were the worst emergency contacts to deal with. They wanted information yesterday and waiting for the doctor in charge of the case wasn't what they wanted to hear.
"Dr Reid… I'm sure the Dr. Singh can give you more detailed information than…"
"I hope your not bothering the staff," a musical male voice said from his left.
Reid turned to see a man several inches shorter than himself approach the desk. He had dark eyes and dark skin. He wore the usual white coat over a tailored suit and white dress shirt. His tie was conservative and muted in color. His teeth were blindingly white and he smiled kindly at Reid, before showing him to the empty waiting room.
"Dr. Singh… I don't have time for pleasantries. The doctor in charge of my mother's case at Bennington calls me and tells me she had a stroke and nothing else. What is her condition?" He demanded ignoring the doctor's suggestion that he sit down.
"She was brought in when Dr. Halcom determined that your mother required emergent care at this facility. At that time she failed the Cincinnati Pre-hospital Stroke Scale. When she arrived here, she was unconscious and unresponsive to stimuli. We've determined that her stroke was ischemic. She's in a coma. There has been loss of most of her motor function and she's blind. We think your mother maybe able to hear you. We're optimistic for some partial recovery."
"How optimistic," Reid asked, his own voice sounded so far away, it was like an echo fading away over the hills and mountains.
"You should prepare yourself for anything. Now… let me take you to her." He said kindly.
Yeah… anything was better than sitting in this room that was white walled and beige colored in its furnishings with magazines scattered around and on top of wooden end table. There was a television in one corner and he wondered who could focus on a TV in this room. The chairs and couches looked comfortable in their ugly pea green upholstering, but he doubted it.
The doctor led him down more hallways that were white washed. The floors were more sepia colored tiled and their shoes squeaked on them as they walked to the end of the hallway. The antiseptic smell of the place made his raw stomach protest once more.
Dr. Singh turned left and opened the door in front of them. This was it this was the room his mother was in. God… walking in there and seeing her was the hardest thing he'd ever done. The white curtain that ran on a semi circular track around the bed was pulled back. She lay there with a ventilator tube forcing air into her lungs. Her chest rose and fell in rhythmic time to the hiss and click of the machines around her. There was a low blip on the heart monitor, fed by the leads attached to various places on her chest and back. An intravenous line infused into her left hand and her eyes were open and staring at something so far away. Maybe she was looking back to happier times.
"I'll leave you alone." The doctor said and left the room.
Reid could only stand there and look down at her. Her once beautiful and abundant blond hair was still cut short around her head. Her eyes… He couldn't bear to look into her eyes. Instead he sat down in the chair next to the bed and took one of her hands in his. It was warm to the touch. The callous on the second finger of her right hand was just a prominent as he remembered.
"Hi Mom… It's Spencer."
