Chapter 26

Found

It's not hard to find the truth. What is hard is not to run away from it once you have found it.

A/N: for PoRM

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

I wasn't sure at first when they contacted me….when Garcia found me, why they had.

There was a horrible feeling in my heart that something had happened. Something bad had happened. Worse than the Hankel thing. Worse – and that nearly finished him… That nearly destroyed him. So what could be worse? I didn't want to think about it and Garcia didn't want to talk about it on the phone. She sounded stuffed up. A cold.

She had been crying.

Obviously I packed a bag – I packed it over a year ago and it's still there waiting. I knew one day the call would come and though in a way I was expecting it I still wasn't prepared. Not inside. Not where my soul resides.

I'm sitting looking – pretending to look – out of the window of the small plane I have caught to take me back to Virginia. I am looking at my reflection. I am looking at the worry lines around my eyes and the glimmer of tears, but I won't cry. Not yet…not until I have said my final goodbye because that is what this is all about.

I have to say goodbye.

A few glasses of something to calm my nerves.

I'm not nervous though…It is something else…something deep and painful and I don't want to admit that it's guilt. If I admit that I ran off and left him when he most needed me…if I let my heart know that then I can't do this.

And now here I am standing outside a hospital. I've been here before. I've stood here before. Looking up at the big dark windows it suddenly feels less a place of healing and more of a tomb and I still don't know what to expect and I don't know who else will be there, or if anyone will be there and I need to know…I need to prepare myself.

How selfish am I?

I have been standing here now for a few hours just staring up at the windows….behind one of them is the bleeping of machinery keeping Spencer alive. No – I know I haven't been told that, but I can see of no other reason Garcia would have called me back. No other reason she couldn't talk to me about it on the phone and no other reason why his address has been a hospital for the past two months.

Why do hospital elevators always suddenly feel too small and too hot as soon as you step into them? I keep running my fingers through my hair but I don't think in the long run that any amount of finger combing is going to prepare me for what I am going to be faced with.

The doors are sliding open and for some reason I am still standing here clinging hold of the rail running along at waist height around the elevator car. I don't start to move until the doors begin their slow slide shut again and then I am moving and putting my foot in the way and finally I am standing in a white corridor and I think I might pass out.

Why is it so hot?

Why is there no air?

Walking slowly to the reception counter and a pretty young blond thing is smiling up at me. Really I want to scream at her. 'How can you smile!' but I don't.

I take a deep breath.

"Jason Gideon. I am here to see Spencer Reid."

And like magic the smile has frozen then slowly is slides away and her mouth opens. "We have been expecting you. How much do you know?"

Know? Know about what? I shake my head and my hair is being combed with my fingers again.

"I will get the doctor to talk to you before you see him. Take a seat Mr Gideon. I will be about two minutes."

She's watching me. She doesn't want to leave me alone. This is getting worse. Every minute that passes it gets worse and sitting down isn't really what I want to be doing right now but I do anyway and now my hands are on my knees and my fingers are digging in through my faded blue jeans.

"Jason Gideon?" I hear my name and look up. "I am Mr LaFeyette. I am Spencer's consultant." I am nodding at him like I knew that already.

"I …." But I don't get to finish what I was going to say.

"Spencer is sleeping. He has been in a deep coma since he was brought in. Some of his injuries have repaired over the time he has been with us, but – the damage was extensive."

And I am nodding again and I want to stop. "I don't know what happened….what happened to him."

The consultant does a hard understanding smile at me. "He was tortured. He had multiple breaks. Including his neck. He was resuscitated. It's unsure how long he had been deprived of oxygen. We don't know….we are not expecting him to wake."

And he is passing me something and at first I don't know what it is and then I look and see a tissue and I can feel the hot wet tears on my face. "I see." Is all I manage to say.

"He was brought in with some friends. I don't know if you wish to see them also?"

And now I am confused. Friends? Other team members? "Who?"

"A Floyd Flanders and a child Sam Trent-Saviour."

I know Floyd…obviously I know Floyd….anyone who has ever had anything to do with Spencer's personal life knows of Floyd but I don't know who Sam is.

"Floyd is here?"

"Again Sir…We aren't expecting him to wake. The damage to his – he has extensive brain damage."

And again – damnit…I am nodding.

"I don't know Sam." And now I am wiping at my eyes again.

"He is Floyd's son. He also has brain and neck injuries." The man stood. "I will take you to see Spencer first."

And I stand and frown. "I don't wish to see anyone else. Just Spencer."

"It would be nice…you know to visit the others…they have had no visitors."

I push the tissue into my pocket.

"There is very likely a reason for that." And now I am following the guy down the corridor to see Spencer and I have a horrible feeling I know what is going to happen. I was next of kin for a long time. Until Floyd took that role….I know what they are going to ask me and I want to turn around and go home and not have to face this.

-o-o-o-

I come here once a week.

I dust…and I put flowers in a vase and I wonder if I will ever be able to do this and think 'Tomorrow he will be home.' But the longer he stays so deep and away from us the more unlikely it is going to happen.

I know Gideon is going to visit him today and so I am keeping away. He will ask too many questions that I wont be able to answer.

I still see him every time I close my eyes. I wake up screaming out his name. My throat hurts from the shouting…my eyes are sore from the crying and still he is there hanging and swinging slowly with no life left in him….

And the image shifts to the medics running in and pulling him away from me and stuffing tubes in his throat….his trachea was crushed. His neck broken…his bones snapped. I can't imagine the pain he must have been in before his body decided to close down.

Looking down at his floor I can see I have dripped water on his wooden flooring. I blink at it hoping it will go away. I don't want Floyd to see it and again my heart skips a beat. They tried to take his head off. His spine is shattered. His face destroyed and still he clings hold of life for some reason and the only reason I can think of is for Reid.

I need to wipe away the water drips on the floor. I need to keep everything perfect. Flowers in the vase. Coffee brewing. Books dusted and another one chosen to read to him as I sit and wait and look at that mole above his eyebrow and the ones on his neck and chest and I wonder where he is….where his mind has slipped off to and I know Floyd is in the next room to him and Sam the one next to that, and I haven't been to see them. I can't face that too. I know if Spencer awakens and Floyd isn't there for him he will slip back again.

I pour myself a coffee. I like to think that his apartment smells like it should. Slowly I walk to his bedroom and I stand in the doorway and look at his bed made up for when he comes home and I know deep down that it will never happen. Even if he wakes up….he was dead – I held him in my arms as he died and there is no coming back from that….not as you were.

Suddenly I need to get out of his apartment. The smells are over whelming me. The thoughts are making my head spin and I just want to go home and be with Rosie who – god bless her – has stuck with me through this…

I make sure the drapes are closed and I make sure the coffee machine is off and I set the alarm and leave the place behind.

Next time – I have decided….will be the last time. I won't bring fresh flowers….I will save the flowers for the grave.

-o-o-o-

Another session sitting in the stuffy room on the over stuffed couch talking about every thing but the one thing I need to.

I have talked about Reid. I have discussed the loss I am feeling in great depth. Knowing that the machines are there keeping him breathing and monitoring his heart is somehow worse. I can't grieve for him.

I talked in length about how it felt watching the medics work on him. Seeing the looks on their faces and knowing full well that there wasn't really any coming back from this. He was dead. Hotch was holding his hands and he was dead.

But they didn't give up. I watched as he bucked on the floor as they put the paddles on his chest. I watched them cut their way into him so they could get him breathing…I watched them look at watches and shake heads and I saw them try again. Needles being slipped under his skin. Lights shone in his eyes and the shaking of heads.

I don't know what Hotch said to them. I could see his mouth moving but there was too much going on….too many people to hear what the quiet words where and I have never asked. But they tried again.

And again…and the longer it took the less likely it was that even if they got his heart started that he would ever wake up. Two months ago now….two months of visiting every day and nearly nine weeks of having to walk past the other two rooms.

"You have something on your mind Derek?"

Stupid question. "That's why I come here." I snapped back…and I am cross that I snapped at him….he's trying to help me and if I wont talk to him he's going to find that difficult.

"Have you been to see Spencer today?" He is squished down into a big armchair and he is sucking on a mint.

I nod at him. "But…."

"That's not the problem." He knows…so why is he asking me.

"I need to talk about something else."

And he nods because he knows. He knows that there is something else. "I couldn't help him. I didn't want to help him…I hesitated."

"Spencer?" he takes off his wire rimmed glasses and cleans them on a little yellow cloth he takes from his breast pocket on his black suit.

"Sam – a kid. I hesitated because I don't like his father and he – he is – going to die as well. They smashed his brains in…and broke his neck….a kid…and that is my fault. I didn't want to help him because of his father."

"Talk to me about Sam's father."

And that's exactly what I'm not willing to talk about. I shake my head slowly and I feel too hot and I wish I had kept the chat to Spencer….I know where I am there…this other stuff is too confusing.

"Why didn't you want to help him…what did his father do?"

I stand up and look around the room. I need something to take my mind off it…I need something to take those damned images out of my head. Reid hanging by his neck…Flanders getting his head hacked off…Sam laying with his neck all wrong…and that feeling of absolute silence.

"He – abused Spencer." I blurt it out quickly. Maybe if I say it fast enough it will all be over with.

"In what way?"

"Sexual – emotional – physical…any way you can."

"He raped him?"

And I am standing in front of the counsellor and I want to tear his face off for saying that and for bringing that rawness back out in the open where the flies can land and infect it.

"He is a monster." And it comes out as a whisper. I wanted to shout it but it won't come out because there are too many tears.

"So you failed to protect his child because he hurt someone you love?"

I lean on the wall and my hands cover my face. I am disgusted with myself. I let a child die because I was jealous of his father's relationship with Reid. What does that make me?

Sitting on the floor now with my knees up tight and my face still covered and I am screaming and crying and howling and I don't think it's ever going to end.

The arm around me is poor comfort. I don't want to be comforted. I let a child die….because I couldn't stand seeing him…those eyes looking like his father…his spite being too much like his father. I hesitated.

I permit the arm to stay there though.

"He's not dead? He is in hospital?"

I nod…and I my mind I can see the door I walk by everyday.

"Have you been to see him?"

The thought makes me want to be sick. "How can I!" I move my hands from my face. "It's my fault!"

"Derek – had you not been there…what would have happened to everyone. Would Spencer be walking around? Would they boy's father be playing ball in the park with his boy?"

I swallow and look into his eyes. "No….no Sam…they were going to throw the boy into a – into a furnace."

"And you stopped that from happening by being there?"

I nod.

"Then you gave the boy a chance he wouldn't have normally have had."

I nod again.

"And you need to go and visit him…and his father. Both of them….take someone with you…your friend Penelope….take her with you."

And I sigh…and I bite on my bottom lip. "Closure?"

And now he nods.

-o-o-o-

I can wiggle my toes today but I don't think anyone saw.

Yesterday I thought about opening my eyes but I can't do that…not sure why…

Was Hotch here? I think I can smell him in the air…but I'm not smelling much really…but it smells like he was here.

Apple shampoo and this aftershave.

Are my eyes bleeding?

I don't know if it is blood or tears. I can't tell.

Floyd's not been here. I don't know why. I need to feel his hands on me. I need that comfort. That security but no one touches me but the nurses when the bath me and massage my muscles and they talk to me like I can't hear them.

They were saying about someone coming to see me – how it will be good.

They said he will turn the machines off…but I don't know what they mean by that.

Someone explain that to me please! I don't understand…

I am on life support?

They are going to turn my oxygen off?

They are going to kill me?

Oh god please help me…someone see I can move…I can smell…give me the chance please. I can get over this. Watch me….I will move my fingers…

Did anyone see that? Did you see me move…

Please don't turn my air off…

Whoever it is coming to see me….a consultant to check on me…he will know…he will see…I will open my eyes but I think there is tape over them…Cant they see I am getting better?

Floyd? Can you hear me?

Someone is touching me…and I try again to open my eyes to see who it is but I can't. It is a hand resting over mine and so I try to move my fingers again and I am sure I am but I don't know if the hand felt it.

Now it is on my forehead and it is wiping stray hairs off my face and then the person talks to me.

"Spencer." Just the one word and I scream….but I don't think anyone can hear me. It's Gideon. He is here. There is only one reason he would be here….

"I know you probably can't hear me and in a way I hope you can't. I've just come in to say my goodbyes." And a mouth gently touches my forehead.

Please god no – don't turn off my machines…don't let me die.

I can hear movement around my bed but I don't know what it is they are doing.

The voices are too quiet for me to hear but there are lots of them now…suddenly it seems as though the room is full and I try again to see what is going on and I have a horrible idea I know what it is.

-o-o-o-

Gideon is here and they are gathering.

I don't believe this is happening. This can't be.

"Please…Jason." I put my hand on his shoulder from behind. "We need to give him more time. We need to get Floyd in here."

He turns and looks at me. "There is nothing more they can do Aaron. I have been through everything with them. I've looked at the scans and the MRI's he is too badly damaged."

I am shaking my head. "No…he needs Floyd in here. I know it will help him."

I see him look up at the consultant who has his hands resting over the buttons…it's like an execution. I can't watch this…I can't see him die over and over again like this…

"This is partly Flanders fault. Why are you defending him?"

I shake my head. "I'm not defending him Jason and you know full well I'm not. I know this is all about your own guilt and I wont permit you to take it out on Reid."

He pauses. He looks at Spencer and he looks at the doctor who is looking at all of us at the same time.

He shakes his head. "He's right – Floyd should be here. We might not like it but if Spencer loves him….if that is what it is…if it will help him…"

I watch Jason turn away and leave the room. We stand in stunned silence and then the consultant and some doctors walk from the room.

"What's going on?" Prentiss is sitting on a chair and I don't think I've ever seen her look so sick…even after all that happened…she looks like a drug addict and I decide it is something I need to ask….I don't want to make that mistake again and I turn and walk over to Spencer.

"They are bringing Floyd in. I don't know if he will be staying…he is very poorly – but I think you need each other."

-o-o-o-

I'm locked in this fucking darkness and I can't get out….every time I try to move something is pulling me back down again….

I've looked for Spence….I thought I had made my choice. I thought you bloody understood…you can't leave me with nothing! How long is this going to take?

It feels like the ground is moving but I'm stuck on my back and I can't move even my hands and this is so not right that I want to scream and tear someone's heart out…

Is it because I chose the wrong one?

Am I being punished for making a choice?

Why give me the choice if you are going to do this to me?

I open my eyes but it's all just darkness….some shadows in the background and whispered voices.

And the movement has stopped and my eyes are searching out for what just happened but I still cant see anything and I cant work out why it is all so dark.

A hand.

A hand touches mine and I know that hand…I've had that hand touch me before.

Hotchner.

Agent Aaron Hotchner is holding my hand and squeezing it gently and I finally hear a voice ….he is talking directly into my ear.

"Help him…show him you are here." He says to me and now I feel a different hand….and I know this one too…

Spence.

After all this time at long bloody last and I wrap my fingers tightly around his and I think I have tears but it might be because of the bright lights and I squeeze his hand tightly and he wraps his fingers around mine and squeezes back.

A/N: To be carried on in new fic….thank you all for R&Ring!!

LT special thanks to you for all the support…very very appreciated!

Pb

Tin

XOX