Chapter 13
The UnSub
Morgan was standing outside the hospital talking on his phone.
"Histerida Ditiscidae is the name of the beetle, and Diticid Death Bane or DDB, the name of the extract." he explained. "I need sources of either, and a list of anyone who has made enquiries about them or purchased either."
"I'm on it, Angel Fish….Oh, it appears that importing DDB is actually illegal, although that isn't going to stop it being imported, I guess."
"While you are on it, any information on the poison would be good." he said. "The doctors here don't seem to know much about it."
"Will do."
Garcia cut then connection. Morgan put his phone away, and re-entered the hospital. Now to go and talk to Reid.
Although what he was going to say was lost to him. Things didn't look good for Hotch. Morgan was finding it difficult to come to terms with that. Goodness only knew how Reid was going to take it.
Poor Spencer. This was such a huge burden for someone as ill equipped as Reid to carry!
As he approached Reid's room the first thing he noticed was blood on the floor. He ran the rest of the way, and burst through the door.
Reid wasn't there.
He called for a nurse.
"I really hope you are going to tell me that Dr. Reid has been taken for tests." He said when the nurse arrived.
She looked around the room, as if she might suddenly see him. "No, we are waiting for a bed for him."
"There's blood on the floor outside." He opened the door so that she could see. It was at that moment that the doctor to whom Morgan had been speaking earlier arrived.
"I need to speak to Dr. Spencer Reid." he informed the nurse. She looked at the empty trolley, and then at the doctor.
"We've…erm…lost him."
The doctor was about to say something, when he saw what Morgan was doing.
Morgan had seen that the blood trail went through the door opposite. He pushed the door to open it, but there was something on the other side preventing it. He pushed harder.
Reid was lying on the other side of the door in a pool of blood.
"Oh my god!" the nurse put a hand to her face.
The doctor pushed past Morgan and knelt beside Reid. He checked his airways and pulse. "Get a trolley here! Now!"
The nurse rushed off down the corridor.
Morgan looked on in horror.
"Is he…erm…?"
"No, but he soon will be if I don't get him off the floor."
Morgan looked up the stairs. Carefully avoiding the blood and stomach secretions, he went to the top of the flight.
"It looks as if he tried to get up stairs, and fell." the doctor asked, as he and the nurse gently lifted Reid onto the trolley.
Morgan was on the landing, examining the blood smears.
"I think that is what it was supposed to look like. But I don't think that that is what happened." Morgan called to the nurse. "Please would you ask security to block off this stairwell?"
She nodded and went to the phone.
Morgan went back down to Reid.
He was lying very still on his side on the trolley. Morgan had so many things he wanted to ask, he didn't know where to start. So he said nothing, and listened.
"Dr. Reid has severe head trauma. It looks as if his arm could be broken. As you can see he's not conscious, whether through the trauma, or his damaged liver, I can't tell without tests." He looked at Morgan. He could see the genuine concern on the doctor's face. "It doesn't look good. I will call the ICU. I think that is where he needs to be now." The doctor left to make the necessary arrangements.
Morgan looked at Spencer, small, sick and thin. He felt an urge to pick him up and hold him close.
Again, he understood. He was beginning to see how Hotch felt.
As the doctor returned, Morgan said, "I am going to call on the crime scene unit to take a look at the stair well. I don't think Reid fell. I think he was pushed. Please make sure that Dr. Reid is not left alone. Not even for a minute."
Morgan went to the reception desk. "Please would you call the ICU? I need to speak to someone up there."
The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed, and gave it to Morgan.
"Please would you ensure that Aaron Hotchner is not left alone. I will arrange for police protection, but in the meantime, please watch him, and do not allow any visitors."
The answer made Morgan drop the phone and run to the lift.
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Aaron was floating in a safe place, but he was alone. For a long time, no-one called him, and he rested. He could remember terrible pain, and confusion. But both were gone now. He just floated.
He remembered Spence. In his dark safe place, he called silently to him, but there was no answer.
He was alone.
A voice cut through his silent world. Harsh, hateful. A woman's voice.
He could not understand the words, but the feelings in the words screamed at him.
His safe place was compromised, disturbed. He was stabbed by fear and uncertainty.
He needed Spence. He wanted to feel the stability of his love for him.
He reached out, but all there was for him was hatred and cruelty.
Aaron pulled away, sank deeper into the abyss, trying to find the lonely peace he had lost, to hide in.
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Morgan crashed into Hotch's room.
A woman was by his bed, holding the dialysis tube. Aaron's precious life blood was pumping onto the floor, a large red puddle already formed.
Morgan threw himself at her, taking the tube from her hand and bending the end over, preventing any more loss of blood. He shouted for assistance.
He held the woman in his grasp, amazed at her strength. He tried to push her down onto the floor, but she twisted her arms away, and punched Morgan squarely on the nose.
The shock stopped him in his tracks for a second. The woman took advantage and pushed past him, out of the room. Morgan wiped the blood off his mouth and nose, and shouted for help.
A nurse came in, and before she could say anything, he gave her the end of the tube he had been holding, and ran out after the woman.
He took out his mobile, and called for back-up. He ran past the nurses' station, flashing his ID at the young woman sitting there.
"Get this hospital locked down!" he yelled. "No-one in or out!"
It took a moment for his words to register, and she was on the phone to security.
Morgan looked up and down the corridor. He didn't know where the woman had gone, but he was determined that she would not escape.
He pressed the back of his hand under his nose and took some tissues off the desk.
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One floor below him, a man stood in front of the mirror in the men's room. He wiped his face with a wet paper towel, and combed his hair. He smiled to himself in the mirror. Yes, he was pleased with what he saw. He pushed the bundle of clothes that he was holding into the trash, and with a happy smirk, left the room.