Guardian Angel
Sunday
8:23AM
"Man, you're the bomb, Reid." Morgan said off-handedly, sticking his hand in the bag, pulling out a cherry-pastry with a small smile before taking a bite that devoured about half the pastry. Within seconds it was gone.
Hotch even offered a small appreciative smile along with a nod, "Did you get sesame seed bagels?" He murmured before pulling out what he guessed to be one and nodded in approval when it was.
Reid pressed his lips and offered a very faint smile before grabbing his coffee and sitting down in a chair, crossing one leg over the other to expose a blue sock.
Luckily, Reid had hit the ultimate jackpot. When he'd gotten back, he jumped in the shower and changed into a black button-up, with a dark grey tie, black pants, and of course, his converse. Finished within five minutes, and then blowing drying his hair and such took about another five.
Around the time he had finished, he'd knocked on the door for it to be opened by a still barefoot Hotch, just then slipping on his shoes.
He'd made it back in the nick of time.
"You're not going to eat something before we leave?" Morgan questioned oddly, with a raise of his eyebrows.
"Oh, no. I'm fine, I had a bagel on the way back. Didn't eat a very big dinner last night."
Morgan shrugged and stuck his hand inside the bag once more before exposing a cheese danish, this time his pace much slowly as he picked up his coffee.
Hotch picking up his own coffee as well, before sitting down beside Reid, "So, we've got the address of Smitty.." Reid murmured.
"Yeah, the kid's pretty much screwed. No way he woke up before eight on a weekend. I know I never did." Morgan replied with a smile.
Reid smiled slightly for a moment before letting out a small chuckle which Hotch followed along with after a second.
Sunday
9:00AM
Walking up the house carefully, hands extended forward with guns, Hotch knocked on the door with force, readjusting his vest quickly as the woman answered the door, her face full of panic as she noticed the situation.
"Wh-What do you people want? I've done nothing wrong.."
Hotch shook his head, "Mrs. Smitty? We are looking for your son." Hotch replied in a stoic manner, looking directly into her frightened eyes with enough determination to make her let out a soft squeal.
"S-Sure.." The rat-faced looking woman replied, brushing her hands down her long pink apron, stepping back to allow them entrance. They followed inside, the woman walking quietly to a room in which she knocked on. She opened she door calmly and entered into the dark room, the only light coming from a desk, the face of a chubby teen looked up, round, metal-framed glasses glinting in the light as he turned towards the door.
"Tyler? It's the police..they w-want to see you." She whispered shakily before stepping back out of the room, allowing the two to enter, switching on the lights reveal the glaring boy, his face watching their every move.
"What? What is it? I've got too much homework to deal with this."
Morgan gave out a small laugh, "That's not exactly your main concern right now. Your main concern, Tyler, is the fact that you kidnapped teenagers from three different schools."
"Nine of them to be exact." Reid added as though the conversation had moved onto an everyday subject.
"All of which are presumably still alive." Hotch finished, hands crossed in front of his chest, "Now, you're going to tell us where they are, Tyler, or you'll be held custody until we figure it out ourselves."
".." The boy was silent, eyes pouring over the contents of the paper, "I didn't hurt them." He whispered carefully, "I promise I didn't. I just wanted..I just wanted to teach them a lesson. Make a point. We all did."
Morgan looked at Hotch who then looked down at Tyler, "Whose 'we'?" Hotch questioned, arms still folded in unseen anger.
"..Steven Wilbur and Madison Lafferty...we're just..were nerds, ya' know? Tired of being treated like this. I kidnapped them, Steven watched over them, Madison planned it all. We worked like a team."
Morgan opened his cuffs, grabbing him forcefully by the arms, slapping them on his wrists, "Don't worry, where you and your friend are going, nerds don't exist. Tell us where you hid them."
Tyler pushed his lips together, brows furrowed in anger at his new found predicament. "I can't."
"Tell us." Hotch ordered, squeezing his shoulder tightly with his hand, looking determined down at the young teen, "Tell us Tyler, or they might die."
Tyler shook his head, "They wouldn't do it."
"You don't know what you've done, tell us now." Hotch continued, staring deeply within the glistening eyes of Tyler Smitty.
"...Fine. I'll help you find the way, but I don't know the directions or anything. I just know how to get there.." He whispered after a minute of unresolved silence.
Sunday
11:00PM
'Reid? Reid, is that you?'
'Yeah, mom. I-It's me..what's wrong?'
He could only watch as his mother gagged, blood pushing up between her teeth as it leaked down the sides of her face. He held back his gagging and smiled down at her as though nothing was wrong, his expression drenched with pity.
'Spencer, know that I love you. Please know it. I'm dying but..'
'D-Dying? M-Mom, no. You can't be..'
'Good bye, Spencer..'
His body jerked forward from his place on the silent couch, breath labored and hands trembling as he felt hot tears rolls down his cold face.
He looked carefully around the plane and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the the other two were still sleeping soundly in their respective seats.
The plane ride home was mostly silent, containing only three passengers in the late hours of the evening, they mostly slept, waking up perhaps once due to turbulence, but other than that, they slept on soundly, another case being solved, finished, and closed with none of the teens being dead.
Reid let out another shaky sigh and swallowed down the small sob dying within his throat as he let out a soft guttural noise, lips trembling in fear.
Was the dream a warning?
Of cours not, he didn't believe in dream analysis..right?
He shakily reached inside his pant pocket and scrolled through his call log to see that no one had tried to contact him, meaning no new news on his mother.
He slowly got up, stumbling inside the the miniature bathroom, quickly splashing some water on his face to calm himself down, before exiting and walking back to his seat on the couch. The silence was cold, wrapping around his nervous heart as he blinked at the sight of a sunrise appearing through the small plane of the window.
He shook his leg and let his fingers dig within the material, almost enough to pierce his skin.
Monday
12:00AM
Spencer Reid, once more, awoke to a cold sweat and soft tremors all over his body, the image still fresh in his mind of his mother's dying body.
This time he did not attempt to push back the sobs caught within his throat, but instead released them quietly, his body wracking with anguish, tears pouring down his face. The little news he was given on his mothers condition just before checking out of the hotel did nothing to help.
The only optimistic piece of information the doctor could present to him was that his mother's chances hadn't gone down.
He clenched his first around the sheets and shook, his sobs of desperation for his mothers life going unheard by anyone he knew of.
The woman, in the closet, however, stood stark still, tears traveling down her face, her breathing becoming sightly uneven. "Tell me..what is it? Your mother, I know, I know. But what can I do? What can I do, Spencer?"
Reid hunched over, feeling the onset of a headache come about, but ignored it as his breathed became ragged, "At least..least.." He mumbled, repeating himself due to his shocked state, "..at least..let her be..c-comfortable..I know what the doctor means..she's not going to live..I know..I know.."
The woman put a hand on the cool wood of the door, "No, Spencer..No, don't be upset. I'll make this better.." She whispered quietly, her eyes watching his form through the crack in door, slowly lie back down, body still shaking silently.
It wasn't until about an hour later did the body go still and silent. She slowly walked out of the closet, turning to crouch down beside his bed and look at the tear-stroked face of the younger man.
She put a hand on his face, "I'll make this better, Spencer. I will.." She whispered before turning and walking out the door, fleeing from the apartment, and out of the complex, and finally to her car, where with determined eyes, she clutched the backpack in the seat beside her. "I'll make this better."
Monday
2:00PM
His heart was sore. Sore from all the pain and weight being put on it. Up until the second phone call, right before checking out of the hotel in Maine, he barely could even come to terms with the fact that his mother was in the hospital, dying.
His anger on the doctor and night drinking blocked his vision of grief. Which at first, was what he was trying to do, falsely make himself believe nothing wrong was happening. To forget that anything bad was going on. But now, more than ever, he realized what was happening. He twitched nervously in his seat and even found a new habit of picking at his nails every few seconds when the anxiety especially grew worse.
These were the most fatal hours, the hours that would tell him whether or not, for sure, his mother would live or die.
She had been transported to a hospital closer to his location, and he took advantage of this quickly, driving their as soon the doctor called, telling him she was stable and visitable, though in a coma.
So there was, in that hospital at that time, sitting alone in the waiting room, hands quivering as a nurse with red hair slowly made her way towards him, "Dr. Spencer Reid?"
He looked up into the cold eyes of the nurse who sighed, "You can see your mother now."
He sighed in relief, "Thank You." He whispered as he moved past her quickly, and practically sprinted through the halls of the hospital. It was sterile, bright white, and smelled of weird, sickly, food, but he ignored all these details as he read the numbers on the doors.
He swallowed when he finally made it to her room.
'409'
He put a hand on the door handle, feeling the thermal energy of his hand leave and enter into the doorknob, giving him the false impression that the metallic handle was colder than room temperature.
He shook his head and finally pushed into the room, looking at the woman lying on the hospital bed.
It looked nothing like his mother.
Even after she had fallen into her depression when he was young, her skin held some form of radiancy. Now, lying in the sterile white sheets, skin paler than that of the snow-white walls, she looked as though death was closer than ever.
He let out another shaky breath, feeling the hot tears come back to roll down his face as he slowly took the seat beside her bed, "Mom? They say that ninety percent of coma patients claim that they heard everything that was said while in a comatose state..but..I just..I hope you're not part of the other ten percent."
He gave a small smile, but the happiness he tried to desperately to display, could not reach his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat forcefully, and the frown took over once more.
"..I just want you to know that I'm proud to be your son..and there's not one day I go by...without being proud..I love you.."
It was silent in the room between them for a moment, the only noise the sound of the heart monitor beeping every few moments. Slowly, but steadily.
A knock suddenly came at the door, and Reid stood, thinking it would be the doctor, though when the door opened, he was greeted by a different group.
The Team.
Hmm..How exactly is she going to make it better? Who knows? How did the team know he was in the hospital with his mother? What will they say at a dark time like this? Who knows?..Well..me but anyway... Please review! I don't really mind WHAT you say, critique as much as you want, or as little. I don't mind. Just review, please!