As he promised he would, David Rossi stayed at the crime scene. He watched the coroner and criminalists do their work, but stood back at a respectful distance. He only offered assistance when specifically asked to do so. Part of him was still processing the events that occurred before his eyes too, and part of him was deeply concerned for Spencer Reid, who was only a few years younger than his own son would have been had he lived. He looked away as the coroner moved the severely damaged side of Maeve's head into view for one of the criminalists to photograph. Rossi observed the entire process until Maeve Donovan's body was rolled out of the room on a gurney just ahead of the one carrying her killer, and then he left the building to find the rest of his team.
By that time the ambulance had taken Reid, and JJ along with him, to the hospital. Hotch, Blake and Morgan stood next to Hotch's black Chevy Suburban. "The coroner has both bodies," he said as he approached and motioned behind them. Hotch nodded and turned to see the two gurneys, loaded with body bags, being rolled into the coroner's van.
"How's Reid?" Rossi asked.
"The gunshot wound wasn't just a graze. JJ went with him to the hospital," Hotch answered.
"OK," Rossi responded, "and, how is Reid…?"
Hotch sighed, "As one might expect." He didn't need to say more.
"So, what's the plan?" Rossi asked.
Morgan's phone rang. It was Penelope Garcia, the BAU technical analyst. None of them had had a chance to call Garcia since before the tragedy. "Hey, Baby Girl," he answered. Despite the fact that none of them had called she already knew what had happened. She just wanted to touch base and ask how she could help. Morgan put her on speaker.
"The plan is," Hotch said, "right now Reid is more important than the remaining statements and follow-up left for this case. If anyone has a problem with that, you are free to go back to the office. If anyone there has a problem with that, they can talk to me later. Otherwise, let's go to the hospital. Garcia, can you meet us there?"
"Sure can," she responded over Morgan's iPhone.
And with that Hotch, Rossi, Blake and Morgan climbed into Hotch's SUV and headed to the hospital.
In the ER the attending surgeon and a trauma team were already waiting for Reid's arrival. Even under the somewhat extraordinary circumstances the staff wouldn't allow JJ to accompany Reid into the trauma bay.
Standing in the hallway outside the room JJ pulled out her cell and called her husband Will at home. She told him what happened, seeing it all again in her mind's eye as she spoke. Will listened sympathetically and asked if she wanted him to find a sitter for their son Henry, so he could come to the hospital.
"No, Henry's asleep and if he wakes up one of us should be there," she said, though she wished both of them could have been there with her.
"OK, cher, call me if you need me," he said in his sweet southern drawl. "See you when you get home."
JJ had just put her phone away when a nurse came out of the trauma bay and told her that Reid was very anxious and agitated, which was resulting in a rapid heart rate and decreased oxygen saturation, and he wouldn't cooperate with their attempts to assess and treat him. The nurse said he kept asking for JJ, and they wondered if she would mind coming back into the room with the trauma team. JJ passed the nurse and pushed through the doors without waiting to be asked to follow.
She knew with one glance at Reid on the gurney in the trauma bay that he was terrified. "Hey, Spence," she said in a soothing tone not unlike one she used with Henry when he was sick.
"JJ, they want to give me drugs," he blurted, sounding both childlike and paranoid. JJ looked up at the young surgeon, who stood on the opposite side of the gurney.
"This looks like a through and through gunshot wound to the deltoid with quite a bit of bleeding, which could be from a nicked artery. I need to get him to the OR, explore the site, make sure he isn't going to slowly bleed to death and close, and this isn't the goddamn Civil War. I'm not going to treat him without an anesthetic and some pain control," he said, clearly irritated.
"Spence, do you mind if I talk to your doctor?" JJ asked calmly. Reid shook his head.
"Over there," she said pointing to the other side of the room, somehow managing to be sweet and commanding at the same time.
The irritated surgeon, who just wanted to treat his patient, rushed with JJ to the furthest point from Reid in the room, which JJ hoped meant Reid would not overhear what she was about to say.
She made intense, direct eye contact with the surgeon, her cornflower blue eyes flashing, as she stated quickly and emphatically, "Your patient, my colleague and friend, is an FBI agent whose girlfriend was shot to death in the head at point blank range while he stood barely three feet away begging for her stalker, kidnapper and killer to take him instead and that was after he had already been pretty much tortured and then shot himself by the same criminal. He also has an eidetic (perfect photographic) memory, which, in case you are not aware, means he will never forget any detail of that, or this either." She paused just briefly to glance at Reid who did not seem to be able to hear her, and then continued, "And, he has a history of drug addiction, to dilaudid—a drug that was forced on him while he was held captive and tortured by a serial killer several years ago, which, by the way, he has overcome despite great odds. You can, I hope, now see why I think he deserves a little more patience from you, plus I doubt he's going to bleed to death from that wound so quickly that you cannot be just a little more patient." And taking a breath she finished with, "And, I'm sure you can figure out a way to treat him that won't make his situation worse, don't you?"
The surgeon looked shocked. He knew that his patient was an FBI agent coming in after an incident in the field, but he did not know the tragic magnitude of the incident, nor was he made aware that the patient had a history of drug abuse. "Yes, of course," he responded and stepped away to the phone on the wall.
JJ returned to Reid's uninjured side and reached out to take his right hand, being careful not to disturb the IV. "It's OK, Spence. Don't worry. They're going to take good care of you." Reid squeezed her fingers gratefully, relaxing a little, but also feeling just a little embarrassed, because he felt so out of control.
"OK, ladies and gents," the surgeon said to the crowd in the room as he hung up the phone. "This one gets no pain meds. We're doing this with local anesthetic only; so, I've asked Dr. Paxton to come down to attempt to hypnotize the patient. He'll be here momentarily. And you, Ms… FBI Agent," he said turning towards JJ, "as long as we're being unorthodox here you need to scrub and come with us to the OR, because his vitals improved quite a bit with you in the room and all things considered, I'd like to keep it that way."