"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." - Lao Tzu

Spencer Reid hated hospital rooms. They always reminded him of death. Perhaps because his mother had often been admitted to the ER after hurting herself during one of her "episodes". He had waited in many hospital rooms, desperate for a word, a gesture, anything at all that would indicate to him that his mother was okay. But he never got one, at least, not until she had made it out of the operation room. Perhaps that was why he was sitting there so calmly, the statistics about head gun shot wounds survival rates rushing around his mind. It was hard to keep being positive when he knew that only 5% of hear gun shot wound victims ended up surviving and only 3% of those actually managed to live their lives like they normally did. Most ended up suffering from paralysis, speech impediment or personality changes depending on which area of the brain was hit. He tried to distract himself by observing the different members of his team.

Rossi was sitting on the edge she of his chair, his hands joined together as though in prayer, and eyes stubbornly fixing an invisible point on the floor. Hotch on the other hand was giving his back to the room stubbornly avoiding anyone's gaze and tapping his fingers rhythmically on the window ledge. His eyes seemed glazed, as though he was not taking in a single detail from the scenery before him. His poker face was on and it was impossible for anyone to guess what he was feeling. Emily was making what must have been her eighteenth cup of coffee this hour alone, and kept pacing trough the room, unable to sit still. That, thought Spencer, was so purely Emily, She was never the sitting around type of person, she was a woman of action, when a person she cared about was in danger she would immediately take the necessary steps to save their lives; even if it meant losing her own. All this sitting and waiting was driving her crazy. JJ was sitting next to Garcia, her arm slung around the other woman's shoulders. Every so often she would get up and speak with one of the doctors who came every hour or so to give them an update. But the real mess of the group had been Garcia. She had sat there motionless on her chair, trying-and failing- to finish the bright blue hat she was knitting for Henry. Her usually immaculate make up was smudged and there were dried tear stains all over her cheeks. Every so often, she would try and make a positive remark such as "He's going to make it." or "I know he's not going to die." her voice almost begging them to agree with her.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of waiting, a young doctor came towards them. Spencer tried to decipher his facial expression, but he was putting on a full poker face. "Derek Morgan ?" he asked looking up from his chart. They all rose at once to face him. The silence was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, the only sounds that could be heard were the scratches that their chairs made as they got up. "Well, I am pleased to inform you that the surgery went better than expected. Agent Morgan has been moved to room 317 in the ICU. If you will go there one of the surgeons who operated on Agent Morgan- -will be able to apprise you more fully about his condition."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, than he was greeted by the sight of a frantic group of FBI agents racing for the ICU. Hotch stayed to exchange a few words with the doctor before making his way to Morgan's room walking at a slightly quicker pace than necessary.

When he arrived in the room, he found his colleagues had already made themselves comfortable. Garcia was fussing around the room; hanging gadgets and ornaments all throughout the barren hospital room and was being helped by a clumsy JJ who tried to balance Garcia's odd contraptions on Morgan's bedside. Reid was sitting at Morgan's bedside monitoring his vitals, watching the steady monitor that indicated Morgan's heartbeat. Rossi was seated on the armchair, his eyes not leaving Morgan's still form, watching the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. Prentiss, on the other hand, was trying to make a bed out of the couch, her intent clear: she was staying here thee would be no discussion about it. Even if it meant defying a direct order: she would not budge.

He sighed and moved himself towards the nearest armchair. No sooner had he sat down than the door opened to reveal a blonde doctor in her thirties. She raised her head and shot a smile at the room, her sea blue eyes twinkling. "Hello." she started, "I am Dr. Eleanor Black. I'm one of the surgeons who operated on Agent Morgan." she mumbled the last part of her sentence while reading over the chart in her hands. "Now I am pleased to say that-", she paused as her eyes scanned the face of the youngest team member. Her eyes widened and her mind seemed to go into shock as she dropped all of her charts on the floor.

"Spence !"

"Ella !"

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever." - Alfred Tennyson

A/N: Soooo...Spencer and Ella finally meet ! I'm sorry if this chapter seemed short but I promise the next chapter is much longer. Thanks to all those who left reviews !

DISCLAMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, I only own my OC and my plot.

Please keep reviewing and once again thank you for reading my story !