After a brief stop at the Chinese place near Reid's apartment to get some lunch, the friends arrived at their destination. Morgan helped Reid into his wheelchair and they entered the well-kept, nice looking building.
Thankfully, Reid's apartment building had no steps to get in the door and an elevator. They had no problem getting to the third floor apartment that Spencer Reid rented.
Morgan stepped around the man in the wheelchair and unlocked the door to the apartment. Once the door was open all the way, he stepped back around the chair and wheeled Reid into his living room.
Morgan informed the temporarily immobile man that he was going put their things away, go to the bathroom, and then he would get lunch ready. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Reid alone in the living room.
The toys that had been scattered on the floor were gone. Reid imagined one of his teammates had been in and cleaned up a bit for him.
'Probably Garcia,' he thought. Morgan had mentioned something about her cooking some meals for him. She had probably brought them over and cleaned up while she was here. It seemed the kind of thing the big hearted computer tech would do.
As he looked around the room more, he began to feel terror and panic welling up in the pit of his stomach. Images of his tormentor flashed through his mind. Opening the door to see the man in the jumpsuit; turning to see the large man standing behind him and throwing a punch into his gut; Michaels rushing at him; the door bursting open while he fumbled with his gun to see the attacker wielding the heavy statue; the look of satisfaction and happiness as the sick man watched his victim slip into unconsciousness; the look of pleasure in his eyes as he saw Reid's pain and fear; the disgusting feeling of the sexual sadist rubbing against him; the feelings of pain, shame, and horror as the psychopathic torturer ripped into him.
All these memories swirled around and around Reid's mind. His breaths were coming short, quick gasps. His heart was racing so fast, it felt like it was about to break right through his rib cage. The room began to spin and he could feel himself trembling. He saw Morgan walk into the room and rush over to where he had left his wheelchair bound friend as soon as he saw him. Reid could hear Morgan calling his name loudly but it seemed like it was coming from very far away.
"Get me out of here, Derek," he gasped. "I need to leave. Get me out of here."
He vaguely heard Morgan say that he would and almost instantaneously, the chair began moving. He was soon out in the hall and heading farther and farther away from his apartment. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should be calming down but he wasn't. He didn't feel any better even though he was out of his apartment. In fact, his vision was beginning to darken at the edges.
Morgan took his distraught friend back outside and spent the next few minutes trying to calm the man's erratic breathing down and get him to focus. He was intensely worried at how his friend looked. His face was pale and sweaty and he looked like he was about to faint.
Just as Morgan was getting ready to call an ambulance, Reid began to breathe normally and some of the color came back to his face.
"What happened, man?" Morgan asked with concern.
"I'm not sure," Reid replied. He was tired and he felt achy. "I just started seeing all these—these images and memories in my mind."
Morgan was quiet for a moment. Then he asked slowly, "Of the attack?"
"And the other stuff," Reid added quietly.
"I think," Morgan said, "that you had a panic attack."
"Oh," Reid said though Morgan thought he sounded slightly confused.
Morgan was silent for a few more moments before inquiring, "What do you want to do?"
"What do you mean?" Reid asked in reply.
"Do you want to try to go back in?" Morgan rephrased.
"No!" Reid said forcefully. "No, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Ok," the African-American man agreed quickly, noting his friend's distress at the thought. "We'll stay at my place. Just let me go get our stuff and we can leave."
He helped his lethargic man back into the SUV before he went back up to the third floor apartment. He grabbed his bag and went to his friend's room where he packed some sweat pants and pull over tops as well as undergarments, a pair of pajamas, and the left sneaker of a well-worn pair he found under the queen sized bed. He grabbed another bag from the closet before heading into the living room and filling it with as many books as would fit. He had quite a few books at his house but he knew that these books were like comfort items for the young genius.
Hands full, he made his way back to the ground floor and out to his vehicle. He found Reid, eyes closed, with his head resting against the door frame. He tried to be quiet but when he shut the trunk door, Reid started slightly and sat up.
Morgan walked around to the driver's side and opened the door.
"I got you some sweats and t-shirts for you to wear during the day since your usual stuff wouldn't work with the casts and pajamas, and underwear and stuff like that," he informed his friend. "And I got a bunch of books from your living room. Is there anything else you want?"
"There's a box on the shelf in my closet," Reid said softly. "It's from Amazon. Could you bring that?"
"Of course," Morgan said. "That it?"
"You might want to get the food Garcia made," he cracked a small smile. "If you don't, we might starve. Your sisters told me about your culinary prowess."
"One time!" the older man cried in mock annoyance as he headed back to the apartment.
He returned seven minutes later carrying two large lidded glass baking pans, a square baking pan, and a medium sized pot stacked one on top of each other. He placed them in the back of the SUV and ran up quickly to retrieve the box that he was almost certain contained the letters from William Reid.
He returned to the car and was pleased to see that Reid was slightly more alert. He turned the key in the ignition and they were soon back in Morgan's neighborhood. They pulled up in the driveway and Morgan hopped out to grab the wheelchair before putting his friend in it. Once they reached the porch, he walked up to open the door so he could carry the red faced agent inside.
Reid waited on the couch while Morgan brought in the various items from the car. Clooney had come to see what was going on and was now standing in the entrance to the hallway. Reid eyed the dog warily, waiting for the German shepherd to start barking at him like usually happened.
Apparently, this dog was different because after a moment of staring at the new occupant of his home, he hurdled to the couch and leapt up beside the brown hair man, rolling onto his back and exposing his underside, as if waiting for a good belly rub. Reid obliged apprehensively, waiting for the dog to snap at him but Clooney just closed his eyes and let his tongue loll out the side of his mouth.
"Looks like you got yourself a new best friend," Morgan chuckled when he saw the pair on the couch.
Reid started violently, whipping his head around at lightning speed to look at Morgan and Clooney flipped over onto his stomach, ears perked up to better observe his surroundings.
"Sorry," Morgan apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to—"
Reid cut him off, "No, its fine. It's not your fault."
Morgan wanted to say more but he didn't. Instead, told his new roommate that he was going to heat up there lunch and again disappeared from the room.
Reid waited for the other man to return, absentmindedly scratching Clooney's ears.
Reid noticed the scent of Fried Rice and Kung Pao chicken wafting from the kitchen. A minute later, Derek came back into the living room.
He was going to help Reid slide from the couch to the wheel chair when Reid stopped him.
"Let me use the crutch," he insisted.
"I don't know," Morgan hesitated. "You just got out of the hospital a couple of hours ago. Maybe you should wait a day or two."
"I'll be fine," Reid said, an air of stubbornness coloring his voice. "The doctor said I could use it to get around the house. Besides, I need to get some kind of exercise. I can't sit around all day for the next month. I'll get fat."
Morgan raised an eyebrow at him and said, "First of all, what are you, a teenage girl worried she won't fit into her prom dress? And secondly, I doubt that you have ever been anything but skinny. And third, I just don't want you to overdo it and hurt yourself."
"I'll be fine," Reid said, ignoring the comment about the prom dress. He was beginning to get irritated that Morgan was treating him like he was made of glass and might break at any second. "It's, like, 20 feet. The doctor said it was fine. Give me the damn crutch already."
Morgan huffed unhappily but handed Reid the crutch that was leaning against the wall near the door. He hovered by Reid, ready to catch him if it even looked like he might fall. Reid shot him a glare but Morgan didn't back down.
Reid successfully gimped from the living room to the kitchen without falling or needing Morgan's support.
They ate their lunch, talking with each other amicably, their previous tension forgotten.
Reid was still feeling off from the panic attack he had earlier that day. When he finished eating, he asked Morgan if he could take a nap, which Morgan agreed to, seeing how exhausted his young friend was.
He led Reid down the hall into his bedroom. Reid wouldn't be able to get to the guest rooms on the second floor but Morgan didn't particularly mind sleeping in one of them for a few weeks.
"This is your room," Reid said when he saw the room Morgan told him would be his for the next few weeks. "I can't take your room."
"Yes, you can," Morgan insisted. "Unless you want to be carried up and down the stairs whenever you get tired. And that isn't something I want to do. You may be skinny, Pretty Boy, but you aren't that light." He smiled so Reid wouldn't take the last comment seriously.
"I could get up there by myself," Reid tried, rather weakly. He knew Morgan wouldn't allow that. "Or I could sleep on the couch
"You have about a snowball's chance in hell of the one happening," Morgan said jokingly. "And there is no way I am making you sleep on that couch when I have two bedrooms with queen sized beds."
"I don't mind, man," Morgan said, nudging Reid in when he saw him still hesitating.
"Alright," Reid accepted. "But if you want back in here, just tell me."
"Just get into the bed," Morgan sighed, shaking his head at his friend's overly humble behavior.
Reid did. Morgan waited until he saw Reid had sat down on the bed and pulled off the sock and shoe off his foot.
Morgan was pulling the door shut when Clooney pushed his way into the room and hopped onto the bed. He lay down, his back against the backs of Reid's legs.
"Clooney," Morgan said sharply. The dog looked at him but didn't come as he usually did. "Clooney, come on."
"It's ok, Morgan," Reid said. "I don't mind it."
"Ok," Morgan replied. "Call if you need anything."
He left the room, leaving the door slightly cracked so he could hear Reid if he needed anything.