Sorry for the long hiatus! Hope you enjoy this short installment!
"The hell is going on in there?!" Morgan said, pacing worriedly in a large room near where the Navy's Medical Examiner was going about his work.
"Your friend's getting a checkup," Gibbs said, his frame practically laying in a large, plush office chair on wheels. "Why an office supply house?" he wondered half to himself. "There wasn't an old motel available?"
"Beats me." The sound of a muffled cry coming from the little room Reid had been put into made Morgan stop suddenly and start towards the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I am not about to let him get hurt again…"
Gibbs rested his feet on the floor and sat straight in the chair. "What make you think he's being hurt?" he asked the pensive agent, his voice calm but firm.
"People don't scream for no good reason!"
"That's true." Gibbs settled back into the chair again as Morgan took two more steps towards the door. "But perhaps he's having to make some admissions he'd rather no one heard."
Morgan stopped. "Admissions?"
"How long you been a profiler, Agent Morgan?"
"Quite a while."
"You think maybe there's some things that happen to a person that can't be seen? That perhaps people shouldn't see?"
The statement made Morgan stop for a moment. He remembered Garcia's evasiveness earlier and Hotch and Chase's reactions after seeing something relating to the case. He also remembered the 'talk' he'd had with Hotch, and for the briefest of moments he remembered what had happened to him as a child. 'It's much worse than even that, Morgan,' Hotch had said, not belittling his experience in the least. 'These people…'
Morgan's mind then turned towards his friend behind the door, and Oliver down the hall. "I get it," the profiler replied, chuffing the words almost in defeat. "I just…"
"You hope it didn't break him," Gibbs said matter-of-factly. "Somehow, I don't think those bastards were that thorough."
----
Reid settled into an adjacent chair next to where Ducky sat. He'd paced the length of the small room for what felt like hours, pouring his heart out to the ME that, to his credit, patiently listened to every gut-wrenching detail. "Why me?" he asked finally, hanging his head almost in defeat. "Why did this happen to me?"
"Your friend next door asked the very same question, doctor," Ducky replied.
"What did you tell him?"
"I merely surmised that it was random chance. It seems that these individuals, depraved as they were, had a reason for going after Mr. Lawrence. You, young man, were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And perhaps for good reason, if that little girl is any indication."
Reid sighed. "Story of my life." He shivered slightly as he clutched the warm blanket closer. "H-Have they come with clothes yet?"
"No, I'm afraid. As soon as they do…"
Just then there was a light knock on the door. Ducky got up to answer it, and after a few light words sent the visitor away. "Ah. Here we are." In his hands lay a small bundle of clothes. "I'll leave you for a moment to change, hmm?"
"Thank you," Reid said, accepting the articles gratefully. "For everything."
"It was my pleasure," the Scottish man said sincerely. "Now, I'll be outside…"
"Thanks," Reid said again, and watched as the man closed the door behind him. He then looked at the garments that the older man had handed him—a plain gray shirt and a pair of tan khakis. There was a green solid-color sock and a white sock with little bats stitched across the fabric, complete with yellow beady eyes. There was even a pair of fresh underwear, and Reid nearly leaped into them with both feet at once. The feeling of fabric covering the personal parts of his anatomy sent a small feeling of comfort through his framework, and he knew that he would never again take the clothing he wore for granted.
As he pulled the loose shirt over his head, a soft knock sounded at the door. "Just a minute," Reid called out, not wanting to be seen while exposed. A few seconds later, there was another soft knock, and Reid opened the door.
"Hey," a familiar voice said, trying to smile a little. "Mind if I come in?"
"Sure," Reid said softly. He admitted his friend, and Oliver sat down in the folding chair that Ducky had left vacated. "Are…are you…"
"I've got a hell of a headache, and I could use a long nap, but otherwise…" Oliver shrugged his shoulders as he heaved a deep sigh. "I, ah, wanted to, um…"
"What?"
"I wanted to thank you."
Reid looked a little perplexed. "Thank me? For what?"
"Reid, I could've…" Oliver heaved another deep breath. "I could've died there. And…and I didn't. Mostly thanks to you."
"Oliver, I…"
"I'm serious. You could've let me sleep, you could've left me to my own devices…you had your own problems to deal with, and I…"
"Was trying like hell to help me, and a little girl," Reid said softly, trying to reassure him. "You took the brunt of it."
"Did I?" Oliver looked at his friend. "Spencer, I saw what that asshole was like to you…"
The memory of Oliver's 'bath' put shivers up Reid's spine. He too recalled what Raul had tried to do to him there on that bathroom floor.
"It's…it's all right."
"No, it's not." Oliver's voice was firm but not harsh. "I…I wanna help."
"You did. You tried to help us escape, more than once. You managed to get Raul away from me for awhile, even if you didn't realize it." Reid drew in a deep breath. "You…you let me do despicable things to you…"
"They made you do it. They made me do it to you." The urge to reach out and hug Reid washed over Oliver like a wave, and it was all he could do to hold back tears. "It's okay, Reid. If you and I don't talk about it to someone, we'll explode."
"I did," Reid admitted. "I…I mentioned some things to that doctor…"
"Ducky?"
The profiler nodded.
Oliver sat back a little and smiled a thin smile. "I did too," he admitted softly. "I took his card. Might save me the cost of a therapist…"
Reid smiled, though there was little mirth to it. "They're probably worried about us," he said, tipping his head slightly towards the door.
"I bet." Oliver stood up. "Think we should go?"
The younger man heaved a deep breath, then rose from his seat. "No time like the present."
