A Gossamer Cage
Part 3 – Battle (3.1)
NOTE: This takes place immediately following Part 2.
Hotch felt like he'd aged years by the time he was finally able to pull out his cell phone and call the team. Waving an acknowledgement to Jason as the older man headed off to Reid's room, Hotch located a quiet corner of the ICU waiting room in the Level 1 trauma hospital at Portland, Maine, where he could safely used his cell phone.
Hitting Rossi's speed dial number, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples for a moment leaning against the cool window. Finally, opening his eyes, he looked out on the wet November landscape from the quiet anteroom, one of several just off the ICU unit. It took longer than it should have for the phone to be picked up, and even then, it wasn't Rossi, it was Morgan. Hotch was tired enough to have to take a moment to think it through.
"Morgan? What are you doing with Dave's phone?"
"Rossi is tied up with the lead officer from the State Patrol. But we've been waiting for your call, so he tossed it to me. Hotch, we may have found a body. We're waiting for the medical examiner now," Morgan finished quietly.
Hotch just sighed, feeling his headache grow exponentially. "Okay. What else have you found?"
"Hotch, come on man, have a heart. How's Reid? You've been gone for like 14 hours. We haven't heard a word, and we're thinking the worst here."
"I'm sorry, Morgan," Hotch said, truly apologetic. "First, Reid will be fine. But it was pretty close. He's hypothermic, and his blood sugar is basically non-existent, and he's dehydrated. The helicopter took us to the hospital in Camden, where they stabilized him. Then they life-flighted him to the trauma center in Portland. He's in the ICU now under a warming blanket, with IVs of warm saline and glucose. However, they now tell us he will be fine."
Hotch heard the sigh of relief from Morgan, then his voice, muted as he turned away, catching the rest of the team up on Hotch's report. "That's good news. Has he told you anything yet?"
"He's not awake yet. His doctor told us that he should be waking up soon, but he's going to be somewhat disoriented, so not to expect a lot. He should become coherent pretty quickly after that, though."
"And the cat?"
Hotch shook his head a moment, trying to comprehend what Morgan was saying. "I'm sorry, what?"
"The cat. The big Siamese thing that was curled up with Reid that you insisted on taking as well."
Hotch could hear the laughter in Morgan's voice. After all that had happened in the last 24 hours, any laughter was good, even if it was at his expense. "Yeah, yeah. I'm operating on an adrenaline crash right now, so laugh while you can. Yes, the cat is fine. It's at the animal hospital in Camden. Basically, it's in better shape than Reid is, that's for sure."
"Good. So what's the plan?"
"I'm going to stay here until Reid's awake. Then, I'm coming back to you. Jason will stay with Reid. How bad are things out there?"
"Bad. The body is buried right out back of the house in the field. Right below the attic window."
Hotch didn't need Morgan to say what they were both thinking. Right in Reid's sightline. He bit back a sigh. That would be devastating to the young man when he found out. If he didn't know already. "ID?"
"We'll need DNA to be conclusive, but Cummings seems to have tapes of everything, so I'm pretty sure it's one of our missings. And my guess? We'll find the other two, probably close by, AND tapes of them once we wade through all the video. And the attic? Man, that place is a fortress. Bars on the windows, on the balcony, everything. Nobody who got in there was getting out. The door on the third floor opened to a stairwell, then to a secret door behind the bookcase. It was barred with a heavy beam. Old school, but efficient. And another thing, we're going to need Garcia out here to go through all this electronic stuff. The room is packed to the rafters with the latest gear."
"Do it. Have her pick up go-bags for everybody. Make sure she picks up one for Jason and Reid as well. Have her stop by here and drop them off for us. And Morgan?"
"Yeah."
"We need to know what happened to Reid. Let the state police process the house. Concentrate on anything that has to do with Reid. We have to know what was going on while he was there."
"Amen to that. How long before we see you?"
"That depends on how long it takes Reid to wake up."
"Give him our best."
"Of course. See you soon."
Hotch hung up and rubbed his temples again. One body. Probably two more. One found drowned. And Reid was still living. How in God's name did he manage to stay alive? All Hotch could do was be grateful that he was.
CM CM CM CM CM
The first thing that registered was the noise. Voices, footsteps, pens moving on paper, the click-whirr-beep of equipment, the tapping of a keyboard, doors opening and closing, the murmur of low voices. It all felt loud and raw to him. He could feel himself tense at the onslaught and moved his head so he could shut out the noise.
"Hotch."
A low, gruff (familiar?) voice spoke next to him and it made him jump. It was close, too close. Reid clenched his eyes shut, trying to get back the quiet.
"Is he awake?" Hotch's familiar tone sounded off in the distance.
"Getting there," the familiar, but unplaced voice (too close!) sounded again.
Reid could hear a low moan, and suddenly realized it was himself. Sensations returned. The scratch on the back of his hand that identified an IV. Soft sheets against his skin. The taste of oxygen and feel of the canula on under his nose.
"Easy Spencer. Just give yourself a moment," the voice urged quietly. Then louder, "Hotch, close the door."
Reid started as a hand touched his shoulder lightly. "Easy, Spencer. It's okay, you're safe."
Safe? He'd been safe before. With Hal. He concentrated on slowing down his breathing. It became easier as a door shut and the world muted. Unbidden, his eyes opened, focusing slowly as the outside stimuli died down.
It took a few moments to take everything in, but even then, it didn't really compute. The hospital room wasn't unexpected, nor was Hotch, standing at the foot of his bed, looking familiar in his suit, tie and impeccable jacket, with his arms crossed, looking down at him seriously. Those were fine. But Jason Gideon, sitting next to his bed, leaning forward expectantly in his chair, finger touching as his hands lay loosely in his lap wasn't normal. Reid shut his eyes then opened them again, but Gideon was still there.
"How are you feeling?" Hotch's question broke Reid's stare. He looked up at his supervisor (well, past supervisor) and thought about the question.
"Reid?" Hotch prompted.
Spencer wasn't sure how to answer. He wanted his attic back. The peace and quiet and the sound of the breakers on the rocks below.
"Stay with us, Spencer," Gideon's voice broke into his reverie, making him realize he'd shut his eyes again without knowing it.
He forced his eyes open and managed to look at Gideon. Hotch had unfolded his arms and bent down, supporting himself on the footboard and the bed in order to make eye contact with Reid.
"We got him, Reid. You're safe now."
Hotch seemed to be waiting for some reaction, so Reid just nodded. He didn't feel safe. He'd felt safer in the attic.
Hotch and Gideon exchanged glances. "You're going to be fine, Reid. Just dehydration and lack of food," Hotch continued. "You're in a hospital, in the ICU."
Reid nodded his understanding again.
"Spencer, look at me." Gideon's voice drew his attention, and he looked at the older man. He was here, but he couldn't be. Gideon was gone. He'd left a letter, and he'd gone. Reid was confused. What was real?
Gideon (real?) gave him a small smile and said, "Go back to sleep."
Spencer just nodded once again and closed his eyes. Maybe the world would make sense again when he woke up.
CM CM CM CM
Hotch and Gideon watched as Reid dropped quickly back to sleep. After a moment, they exchanged a resigned, slightly concerned look. Finally Hotch spoke. "Well, Dr. Hanley did say that he'd probably be in and out for awhile until his blood-sugar leveled out."
Jason nodded noncommittally. It wasn't said, but they both thought it was more than that.
Hotch finally sighed. "I'd better go call Strauss."
"Good idea. I'll stay here. Did Garcia bring my go-bag when she came? I could use a change of clothes. Reid will need his as well." He glanced up at his friend.
Aaron raised his eyebrows. "It's here. Reid's and mine as well. Not planning on leaving anytime soon, I see."
"I'm retired," Jason shrugged noncommittally. "I can't think of a better place to be."
Hotch relaxed visibly. "You've relieved my mind."
Gideon returned his eyes to his young charge. "I told you. I don't make the same mistake twice." He looked back up at Hotch. "Get back to the house with the team. They need you. I'll keep you posted."
Hotch nodded with a slight smile, and left the room quietly, convinced that Reid couldn't be in better hands.
CM CM CM CM
The next morning, Hotch stepped of the chopper onto the windswept field and looked directly at the graves that were being unearthed in the lee of the house. The single body was now three. They were in various stages of excavation, with tarps sheltering from the wind and intermittent rain. Leaning against the wind, he made his way past the forensics crew, busy with their tasks. Pausing a moment, he could see the bodies, slowly being uncovered, in varying stages of decomposition. Sometimes it really sucked to be right.
Hotch quickly made his way into the rambling house, and following his ears, up to the surveillance room on the third floor. There he found his team, quiet and looking grim, arrayed around the many computers.
Garcia was the first to notice him. "Sir!"
"How is it going, Garcia?" he asked.
"This is not my happy place," she announced emphatically. "And it's a good thing this creep is dead, otherwise I'd kill him myself."
A grimly muttered "Stand in line" was heard from Prentiss, who was searching a laptop at the other end of the long room. Hotch noted absently that the room seemed to run the length of the attic, and was directly beneath it. Just thinking of Cummings in this room, like the puppet master and Reid trapped above, made his skin crawl.
"Have you backed up everything you can?" Hotch ignored Prentiss, and concentrated on Garcia. The sooner she did her job, the quicker they could all leave, and it looked to him that the team felt sooner was definitely better than later.
"Almost." She looked up at him beseechingly. "Sir, what this man did . . ."
Hotch felt his headache coming back. "Tell me a quick summary. We'll go over it more back at the office."
"Aaron," Rossi's quiet voice interrupted him and he turned from his desk. "First things first. How is Reid?"
He'd called as soon as Reid had woken up, so they were aware. But Hotch had managed to hang out at the hospital just long enough to see him wake up again. He'd been more coherent this time and he was glad to tell the team good news.
"He woke up again just before I left. He's not really sure what's going on or how he ended up at the hospital. Jason will fill him in as he gets stronger. But he was able to tell us that he went to bed that Friday night we got back from Texas, woke up about 2am. Everything was fine. When he woke up Saturday morning, he was here. And he hasn't been out of that attic since," he finished bitterly.
Morgan took a deep breath to control his simmering anger from boiling over. "He didn't have anybody to talk to at all? Besides that nut job Cummings?"
"No," Hotch informed them. "And he said that he never saw Cummings. Just heard his voice."
"We've seen that," JJ put in. "There are hours and hours of conversations between Cummings and Reid. And, between Cummings and the other missings. He kept them here as well."
"The bodies?" Hotch asked briefly.
"Yes," Morgan nodded. "There is a timeline. He took each like he did Reid. Kept them. But something always happened. He'd wait awhile, then he'd go get the next one. The guy who drowned? He threw himself off the balcony. After that the bars were added. We don't know about the others yet. But this guy had cameras on them 24/7. We'll know."
"Hotch, does Reid know about the others?" Prentiss asked.
Hotch shook his head. "I doubt it. Not unless Cummings had told him. He didn't act like he had. We'll know what he knows when we see the tapes."
"He hasn't told you?" Rossi asked, surprised.
"He's not in any shape to. He's spiked a fever last night, so he's sleeping a lot. That's why I stayed."
"But there's more to it than that, isn't there?" Rossi asked perceptively.
"Yes," Hotch signed. "There is. He's really quiet. Very un-Reid like. Part of it can be chalked up to the isolation, but it's more than that. It's like he's walled himself off. Jason sees it too."
"Well, he was really productive while he was here. You should see the papers and articles in the attic. It's amazing," JJ commented.
Rossi, who had remained quiet through the exchange, studied Hotch with narrowed eyes. "Does Reid see this as a rescue, or an interruption?" he finally asked carefully.
"What?" Morgan snorted. "Rossi, you can't be serious!"
"Oh, I am. Think about it from Reid's point of view. He didn't have anything to do except study and research and explore. No deadlines, nobody pushing him, no teasing, and above all, no interruptions. That's heaven for somebody with a mind like Spencer's. And I've got to tell you, that attic looks like a pretty damned nice place to spend time."
Everybody had startled looks in varying degrees of shock at the thought. All but Hotch.
"I know, Dave. That's what I'm afraid of. And Reid isn't talking."