This will not be slash or Mpreg (you know who you are-both of you!) and sorry for that confusion. (hehehe) Thnx for reading everyone! I never expected to get so much feedback for this one! I know that Spencey doesnt have curly hair anymore, but for my sake his hair is short but still curly, cuz I really miss his curls :) WARNING: All medical facts were Googled and/or gotten through experience.

Stranded in the Desert Place- Chapter 3

Trouble

Aaron Hotcher leaned against the SUV as he stared off into the desert. He was worried about Reid, and with good reason. The younger man's fever had spiked again a few hours after he had fallen to sleep, and he was sure that Reid was feeling down-right terrible. Although he knew Reid didn't like being fussed over, he had to take some sort of action to make sure he would be okay. He also had to find a way out of the desert; Reid needed medical attention- the sooner the better.

Hotch was starting to consider walking to the nearest, well, anything, in search for help, but he wasn't too keen on the idea of leaving a sick Spencer Reid alone to his own devices, and knowing his luck, Reid would end up getting himself kidnapped or shot again. Besides, someone had to drive down the road eventually, or so he desperately hoped.

The section chief was taken back to reality when he heard the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut again. He ran toward the sound of sand being walked on and something- or someone, he dully noted- falling to the ground. The sounds of vomitting confirmed his suspicions, and he sighed as he reached the other side of the car.

Hotch lowered himself to the ground next to Reid and held his curly bangs back as he dry vomited loud and fiercely. He started to worry when, after nearly ten minutes, he hadn't stopped. Spencer began to sway and whimper, his body distressed by the sudden emptiness and lack of energy. Hotch quickly noticed that Spencer was about to fall over, and he was able to catch him before he completely fell. Finally, his body stopped vomiting, and the younger man rested against Hotch's body, trying his best to calm itself down.

Spencer was exhausted, even more so than he was before had had slept for all those hours. He could barely think as he swayed to and fro, the only thing keeping him upright being Hotch. His stomach was killing him from dry-heaving for so long, and now he felt a new wave of nausea pass through his body. Another, yet softer, whimper escaped his lips as he leaned closer to the sand. He could feel Hotch trying to pull him back up, but he shook his head in protest. "Not done yet..." he choked out. Miserably, Spencer started the retching again, but it was much more violently this time around. By the time he had stopped again, the subordinate was practically dead on the ground, his hand over his stomach and pale as a ghost. He was in over triple the amount of pain he was before, and this time he couldn't even fathom moving.

Hotch protectively crouched over Spencer as he felt for his temperature again. He knew he didn't have to do that to know if his fever was rising, though; the sweat pouring from him and the all-together pain-stricken look Spencer carried was evidence enough. He knew that the dry-heaving probably wasn't helping that, and he now knew that the need to take Spencer to the hospital was much more crucial. In the mean time, though, he had to keep Spencer as healthy and comfortable as possible.

"Spencer, I'm going to lay you down in the back seats, okay? You really need to rest and drink something. I know it's going to be painful, but I can't leave you on the ground." Hotch spoke smoothly, trying to calm down the moaning man next to him. Spencer only nodded in return, but that was enough for Hotch. He slid his hands under Spencer's small figure and carefully picked him up bridal-style. Although he already knew that Spencer was light, he was shocked to discover just light light he was, carefully noting that the dry-heaving probably helped to cause that, too. Spencer cried out in pain, and Hotch whispered comforting words to him. After opening the SUV door, he gently lowered Spencer into the seats.

Spencer curled into himself, practically screaming as another pang of pain ceased through his stomach. His breathing hitched, becoming ragged and uneven, as his stomach churned and threatened to spew again. Hotch, sensing his uneasiness, sat down next to Spencer and propped him against his front side. He opened the side door closest to the road so he could look for cars but yet not have to abandon Spencer. Doubtfully, he tried his cell phone again, and not to his surprise, there was still no service.

"Hotch... it hurts. " Spencer said through gritted teeth, trying his best not to scream or whimper again. Hotch frowned, trying his best to think of some way to distract him from the pain. Spencer loved knowledge and sharing statistics; maybe, he thought, he could use that to his advantage. Fortunately, Spencer was thinking something similar.

"I didn't want to cut my hair," Spencer blurted. Hotch raised his eyebrow; he knew that Spencer wanted a distraction, and although he was curious as to what made him cut it, he wasn't quite sure why he would bring up his hair when he was doubled over in pain. It wasn't a statistic, which had become a safe harbor for Spencer, and it wasn't work-related. It was personal, so to say, and that wasn't like Spencer at all. Most people in his position jumped into their safe place, but Spencer seemed to be doing just the opposite.

"We don't have to talk about it, Reid-"

"No," Spencer shook his head, wincing all the while. "I need a distraction, and I honestly don't think I'll be able to explain my statistics right now," he admitted. "I'd rather talk about this."

"All right," Hotch nodded. "Why did you cut your hair?"

The corners of Spencer's mouth twitched up, and that alone was enough to make Hotch nervous. "I had a fight with my father," he started. "He...he came to visit a few months ago, and...and I was drunk. I was so pissed off, and for some reason- I honestly can't remember why, exactly, but he... he mentioned the time when my mom cut my hair very short, and he said he hated it. After that, I...I did something other rather rash things."

"Why were you fighting?" Hotch asked.

The small smile that had formed on Spencer's face quickly vanished, and a glimmer of sadness fluttered through his eyes. He opened his mouth to talk, but all that came out was a harsh series of coughs.

"Take it easy, Reid. You don't have to answer," Hotch said. Spencer nodded his head, all the while fighting for air. Understanding his dilemma, Hotch propped him up more, and just as he went to comfort Spencer, a bright light appeared from the road.

~* SITDP *~

3 more chaps left, folks! This is a minor story, so there won't be that much per-say action, but there will be at least one shocker in the next chap! Thnx for reading everyone!