The first thing Reid notices is how stale the air feels inside the jet, like it's recently been unfrozen from a lifetime of dormancy. The atmosphere is intense too, everyone already on board keeping to themselves, leaving out the small talk and camaraderie that would usually follow the closing of a case. Unsettled, but overall happy to be left alone, Reid tries to sit in the nearest empty seat, in the corner and out of the way. He's just manoeuvring his crutches around the chair when Hotch steps in front of him. Freezing in his actions Reid raises his chin and tries to convey his determination to be alone while maintaining what's left of his dignity, which admittedly isn't much after being babysat through an x-ray and CT scan by his boss. He had promised to behave but after his embarrassing hissy fit resulting in his near fall to the floor that hadn't been good enough for Hotch, much like his glare right now apparently. Without apology he smoothly takes the crutches out of his lose grip placing them on the high luggage rack out of reach. Reid silently tracks the movement with his eyes, fingers' twitching at his sides only just resisting the urge to snatch them back.
"With me," he says flatly and without warning Hotch lands a firm grip on his sleeve and pulls him towards the grouping of seats opposite the couch.
Being physically escorted down the belly of the plane in full view of everyone bumps his embarrassment level up a notch. Had anyone else tried dragging him like a disobedient toddler he'd have pulled away instantly, but this was Hotch. In Reid's mind there's something so un-defy-able about Hotch that any kind of reproof from him - no matter how small - will have him obeying like a chastised child every damn time.
He can feel the team's eyes tracking him, watching, waiting for him to fall apart – it shouldn't be long, Spencer's pretty sure it won't take much to push him over the edge and into the abyss. Eyes gazing lazily towards the back of the jet as he falls into the seat Hotch obviously wants him in Reid can see Gideon sliding into his own up front. He envies his solitude. But as strong warm hands move from his wrist to his back settling him near the window, looking up at the concerned face of his boss Reid accepts Hotch's gentle manoeuvring iisi kind of nice. He isn't hitting him, calling him names or making him dig his own grave and Spencer actually finds it comforting to have someone touch him who isn't intent on causing him pain. A feeling he knows and remembers far too well, and not just from the last thirty-six hours either.
Emily and Morgan are already seated opposite and they both offer him reassuring smiles which he tries to return, but is pretty sure by their disappointed expressions doesn't quite pull off. Garcia had endeavoured to give him a hug the second she set eyes on him after being released from the hospital and noticing the lack of make-up indicating just how upset she was he allowed it, but much like his failed attempt at a smile just now Reid knows the way he stiffened when she squeezed him hurt her feelings a little. JJ passes them by quickly, informing Hotch of take-off as she heads to take her own seat at the front of the jet. Reid drops his head to stare at the table, avoiding looking at her completely. She's someone else whom he's destined to disappoint if unable to offer visual reassurance of his okay-ness. Despite him telling her what happened isn't her fault, every time she looks his way she tears up and so knowing he can't deal with seeing her or anyone else upset again tonight he folds himself up into as small a form as his lanky frame will allow and, resting on his hip, turns to face the window. With Bone deep exhaustion taking over his body Reid lets his gaze drift over the engulfing darkness of the Georgia night sky. He's so tired he doesn't even flinch when someone outside his field of vision reaches around his waist to do up his seat belt, instead Reid focuses on the runway lights, finding their tiny linear brightness in the pitch black darkness surprisingly comforting and allows their twinkling hypnotising effect to lull him to sleep.
..
The atmosphere on board the jet is as sombre as anyone would expect given the previous days and nights events. No one speaks as they dump their bags and get seated for take-off each too tired, too drained and too damn irritated to risk uttering a word that could break the illusion of moderate success. The clunk of the cabin door closing has Emily instinctively seeking out Reid, wanting to visually confirm his presence and she turns in time to see Hotch standing in the gangway taking away his crutches.
Physically leading him down the aisle seems a bit much, but then she hasn't spent the better part of the night into early morning negotiating treatment options with him. Although she hasn't known him long she's sure Reid has the ability to push all the wrong buttons when he's in a bad mood and can't possible fault Hotch for taking a more parental stance with him given the circumstances. In fact Emily understands perfectly, she personally spent the past few hours at the hospital waiting for news on Reid in the bathroom, handing Garcia roll after roll of tissue paper to stem the constant flow of tears and smeared mascara. She's pretty sure out of the two of them she got the better deal though, Garcia at least is easy to talk down, looking at his disgruntled face she'd bet young Spencer is anything but.
There's minimal delay in preparing for take-off. Hotch takes the seat next to Reid, doing his seat belt up for him as if it's part of their usual routine. She knows Morgan sees it too but he doesn't react, causing her to wonder if this kind of behaviour is in fact normal when it comes to Reid. Though she's never been made to feel like an outsider with the team she's constantly trying very hard to fit in, be part of the group, and if it's normal for the group to dote over their youngest whenever he gets hurt then she wants to be part of ithati too. Granted she doubts he's been hurt quite as bad as this before, pretty sure she'd have heard by now if he had.
As soon as they level out and the seatbelt sign goes off a chorus of metallic clicks fill the cabin. The mood instantly changes, not by much since the stuffy suffocating awkward silence still reins, but the overall tension is gone, like they're all breathing easier now they've finally left the place responsible for their collective worse nightmare. Even Reid looks marginally peaceful curled up fast asleep pressed up against Hotch's side. Feeling the need for caffeine Emily offers her seat companions a smile and stands. Walking into the kitchen, flicking the switch on the already prepped coffee pot with more force than necessary she leans against the counter waiting for the water to boil.
"How's the kid doing do you think?" Morgan asks, emulating her current thoughts.
He moves to stand next to her in the tiny kitchen picking up a mug and placing it next to hers, gaze unwavering as he tries not to give away exactly how useless he's feeling.
"I'm not sure." She whispers softly, staring back at the kid in question and asking the same when Hotch approaches them a minute later.
"He's coping." Hotch answers, his too quick nod and light tone fooling no one, least of all himself it seems when his usual stoic glare slips to reveal the overt concern underneath.
Garcia joins them next, exiting the bathroom chewing her lower lip near to bleeding, mascara tracks staining her cheeks once again. Emily wonders not only when she had the chance to reapply, but why she bothered in the first place.
Turning back to Hotch she says, "Coping, coping or …?"
"Let's all just try and get some sleep shall we?" He deflects eyeing their lined up coffee cups with disapproval as he reaches for own, seemingly unaware of his double standards.
"That includes you right?" Morgan calls him on it, arms folded defensively across his chest looking him dead in the eye.
Hotch doesn't answer, instead offering a meagre nod clearly meant to appease he walks away to talk to JJ at the other end of the jet, Garcia, filled purple travel mug in hand, following unusually quietly in his wake. Emily shares a knowing look with Morgan, each offering the other a consoling smile before collecting their own coffees and making their way back to their seats.
..
Reid snaps his eyes open and lurches forward, a scream of denial dying silently on his lips. The image of the couple he sentenced to death, their accusing stares demanding why he did not pick them to live fading back into the deep recesses of his mind from where they came. Just as Reid thinks he's back in control enough to speak and reassure the three anxious faces staring at him that he's okay a painful throbbing repeatedly impacts against the inside of his skull, his vision spinning forcing his eyes to slam shut. The pain is excruciating, but he's too scared to remain in the suffocating darkness long and dares to open his lids just a crack. All that accomplishes is extreme nausea as the vertigo takes control, vision in a whirlwind the sensation of falling is so real he has to grab hold of the table for support.
"You're okay, you're safe." Emily says gently leaning across the table to take his hand.
Reid looks around carefully. From the little he can see clearly Hotch is eyeing him with poorly concealed concern, Morgan too. Smiling tightly he ducks his head, trying to hide from the stares his nightmare and ensuing headache has invoked. Surprisingly no one tries asking him about his dream, in fact Emily's the only one who speaks, continuing to talk to him in calming tones telling him not to be scared and as he listens Reid tries very hard to believe there isn't a hidden meaning in her words. Is he not allowed to be scared? Why, because Hotch, Morgan and Gideon wouldn't be if it had been them taken and tortured by an unsub? Oh, but of course it wouldn't have been one of them, would it? Reid remembers the conversation he overheard at the hospital and transfers his lyrca tight smile over to Morgan. Morgan, who is supposed to be his friend, has looked out for him since his first day in the BAU bullpen when he'd felt overwhelmed, young and well out of his comfort zone of a college campus.
"I have a headache." He whispers through gritted the teeth, the pain becoming more than he can readily handle.
"I got it," Morgan's voice travels back to him.
He quickly stands, disappearing to the other end of the jet.
"You okay Reid?" Hotch's voice this time, less self-assuring than Emily's, but calming.
He nods slowly, closing his eyes against the persistent vertigo. To add insult to injury once the spinning does eventually stop and he feels he's gained some semblance of control again the crock of his elbow on his right arm begins to itch, but he resists scratching and drawing attention to the very obvious needle marks hiding under the long shirt sleeve. The ones he's neglected to tell anyone about.
Morgan returns, tossing him two Advil across the table along with a bottle of water. He thanks him and downing both in quick succession Reid rubs at his eyes, trying to erase the last few minutes of embarrassment from his mind. For someone like him it's an act of futility, but given the circumstances anything's worth a try. Pulling away he notices his hands shaking and quickly shoves them under the table before anyone else sees it too. He desperately wants to close his eyes again and block out the world for a while, but knows now that's a very bad idea. Aside from the obvious pain he's experiencing he'll dream again, about the kidnapping or his childhood who knows, but both are equally terrifying and both will leave him an emotional train-wreck. He really doesn't want an audience to his terror, not again, and is sure the team have seen enough of him sobbing in fear for one trip.
"Did you know there's less than a 5% chance of being kidnapped by a stranger before adulthood?" Reid launches into the topic without preamble desperate to distract himself from his obvious embarrassment and subsequent self-deprecating thoughts. "Surprisingly even though we make up only 4.44% of the world's population America is home to 88% of the world's serial killers, factor in our lifestyle risks and it isn't surprising one of us-"
Surprising him Morgan leans across the table, hand reaching out and grabbing hold of one of his which he hadn't even realised had made its way out from under the table to demonstrate his point.
"Stop," He barks, effectively shutting him up. "If you finish that sentence…" Derek lets the threat hang, but Reid knows what he's declining to actually say.
Pulling his hands free of Morgan's loose grip he swallows convulsively and sits back in his seat. All Spencer wants is for them to see this as no big deal, something that can happen to any of them, why is that so much to ask?
'But it happened to you.' His inner voice torments.
"Shut up" Reid sniffs.
It takes him less than a second to realise he's spoken out loud, but content with letting them all think he's talking to Morgan and not the voice inside his head Reid slips back into silence, eyes to the floor. He can see out the corner of his eye that Hotch is glaring, having a silent conversation with Morgan across the table. Emily is still looking at ihimi. Ignoring them all Reid flirts with the idea of looking over to Gideon for help, but remembers all too well the disappointment in his eyes when he lost it with the nurse at the hospital.
It's such a mess.
iHe'si such a mess! He can't hide anything from these people, especially feeling this way... Drained and holding on to his sanity by a thread Reid now wants nothing more than to be left alone in his misery, more than ready to let go and cry his heart out in peace.
Unable to stop them Reid feels tears born of frustration trail down his cheeks and his face heats. The realisation that all this may be out of his control turns into a physical ache that strikes him to the core, his heart rate speeds up, a fast thump, thump going off like a ticking time bomb in his chest and he feels hot all of a sudden, short of breath, like the air is depleting faster than it's being pumped into the airtight cabin. In the mist of trying to control his erratic breathing Spencer realises he can no longer feel his fingers or toes. Their numb, tingling like all the blood has suddenly leached out of his body and that coupled with his others symptoms can only signify one thing. Eyebrows drawing together in a concentrated frown he tries hard to call up the relevant information that will help him stave off the impending panic attack only… his minds draws a blank - he can't remember what to do. A weighty ball of terror drops into his stomach, a nauseous ache developing swiftly like a freak storm in a desert. So deeply lost in his distress, despite seeing Hotch's hand reaching out to him in his peripheral vision Reid jumps when the warm palm gently cups his cheek.
"Spencer, calm down, you're okay."
Reid manages to look him in the eye and takes several slow deep breaths. Hotch maintains the gentle hold even after his breathing eases slightly, using his thumb to wipe away the embarrassing tears.
"Can I have another drink?" Reid squeaks, throat raw as if he's been screaming none stop.
The hand moves slowly from his cheek to his shoulder, fingers wrapping around the bone much too gently before letting go. The warm body moving away into the aisle leaves a hollow emptiness inside his chest. The despair he feels from the absence of touch takes him by surprise and Reid, not being a fan of surprises, recoils instantly from the shock.
"Kid you alright?" Morgan eyes him warily from across the table.
Reid nods, makes an agreeing sound and quickly looks away, cutting off any possible rebuttal. The jets stale air and its supply being the least of his worries now as simply breathing at all becomes a tougher task than it has a right to be.
"Reid?" Emily's voice again.
He senses her staring at him worriedly, but he refuses to face her and confirm his assumption. His eyes hurt, sore and start to blur, he feels wetness hit his cheek yet again, not a lot but enough to tell him he's losing the battle to keep in control.
"Hey, hey Reid, stay with us." Morgan again, trying to keep him grounded.
Hotch is back, placing the second bottled water in front of him already opened. Snatching it up and taking a long drink to distract from the spiralling out of control situation Reid feels very small and very helpless trapped between the three most dominant personalities of the group. Wiping a ruffled sleeve across his face, catching as many of the remaining tears as possible he shrinks back nervously, trying to make himself appear as inconsequential as possible. It's a defence mechanism he learnt growing up around much bigger kids, one he's not had to deploy in a long time and it saddens him he's resorting to using it now, sitting here amongst those he considers his family.
Resolving to try and fight he wills himself to calm down by taking in deep even breaths, but his entire body's suddenly feeling hotter than if he was in a ninety-degree heat wave and isn't getting any better. He can feel more sets of eyes on him now so squeezes his shut, desperately wanting to keep it together, to not be weak. Just when he thinks things can't possible get any worse he's proven wrong when he feels someone touch his forehead. The hand's shockingly cool against his burning skin making him jump. Before he can question who the hand belongs to his inner voice perks up again, telling him how pathetic he is, that he isn't strong enough.
Knowingly fighting a losing battle Reid wraps both arms around his shaking body, crushing himself in a self-hug, bony fingers digging into his upper arms so tight he experiences enough physical pain to distract from the desolate emotional one building up inside his chest. Reid hears his team calling his name, wants to answer them, tell them he's okay even though it's a lie, but can't muster the courage to look up from under the sweaty hair now sticking to his forehead. Hotch shifts in the seat next to him and motivated to try anything to preserve what's left of his dignity Reid risks swiping at his eyes quickly, trying (and he assumes failing) to remove all traces of the tears slipping uncontrolled down his cheeks. His breath catches, a hiccupping sob building up that he cannot and will not let out. 'I'm not weak!' Reid's chest grows tighter from the lack of oxygen, but he's gone too far, has no control over any of it now and briefly wonders if this is how it feels to suffocate. The sob eventually escapes his throat as he gulps in a greedy breath, and while he's concentrating hard on not passing out from the force an arm slips around his back unnoticed, encircling his shoulders pulling him into a secure embrace.
..
After placing the water on the table and slipping back into his seat Hotch waits for him to take a drink then reaches over placing a hand against Reid's forehead, pushing the sweaty bangs out of his eyes.
"He's burning up."
The three agents present share a look, unsure what move to make next.
"We need to do something," Morgan speaks when Reid declines further by hugging himself, fingers digging into skin so tight it looks painful.
"Reid," Hotch says gently, tone worried.
"Spencer," Emily calls at almost the same time, putting as much motherly concern into his name as possible.
"Oh god what's wrong? What's happening?" Penelope's voice surprises them, disturbing the overall quiet of the cabin.
She's looking anxiously at Reid who's quietly falling apart in front of them and Morgan jumps up guiding her away, keeping JJ back now too, leaving him and Prentiss to deal with Reid. They both try to verbally reach out to him, but their words have no effect. Tears continue to fall silently from tightly shut eyes despite Reid's meagre attempt to wipe them away and once again his breathing is erratic, chest heaving with the effort of holding everything in, stubbornly refusing their help.
Aaron finds Prentiss staring helplessly at him, silently asking what the hell they're going to do to fix this. After a short period of intense, eyebrows drawn together concentration, where Hotch feels like he'll break down too if he has to bear witness to another second of Reid fighting to keep from falling apart in front of them he finally comes to a decision. Committed to his chosen course of action, even though it's rather unorthodox for him as their unit chief, Aaron removes his jacket then his tie and without uttering a word of explanation slips an arm around Reid's shoulders pulling him close.
With Spencer held securely against him, head pressed against his shoulder Hotch whispers soothingly in his ear, letting Reid know he's safe and that it's okay to cry. He keeps it up until the distraught kid shaking in his arms finally lets out the sob he's been battling to keep inside. It comes out in a soft exhale, followed by another and another until finally he gives up the fight entirely dissolving into a fit of tears in his arms.
The sobs taper off lasting barely a minute in total, though to Hotch, and everyone present he's sure, it feels much, much longer. When he falls back in his seat, too tired to support the steadily increasing dead weight, Reid clings onto his shirt so Hotch readjusts their postion until he's resting more centrally on top of him, something a little more comfortable for both of them not particularly caring about their compromising position or how it looks. If holding the kid is what it takes to keep him calm for the rest of the flight then that's exactly what he's going to do. He owes Reid that much. Somehow he doesn't see any one of this team, this family, running to tell Strauss. Stroking one hand up and down Reid's back to sooth he's content to continue the gentle touches until exhaustion finally takes over and sleep claims him.
After a few minutes of uninterrupted quiet Hotch glances down at the warm body settled comfortably against him, head resting under his chin. All he can see is sweat-soaked curly hair, but feeling the steady rise and fall of the kid's chest against his own Hotch is reassured that the worst of this episode is over and Reid's sleep, if not exactly peaceful, is currently nightmare free. A blessing for sure, he thinks sighing in relief, knowing that is something else they'll most certainly have to deal with in the future. Across from them Prentiss, looking very near tears herself after having to bear witness, stands quickly and fetches a blanket. She tucks it around Reid the best she can before gripping Hotch's shoulder in support and disappearing to the rear of the jet. Hotch doesn't expect her back anytime soon. Sitting alone with Spencer curled up peacefully against him Hotch leans into the aisle spying Morgan talking with JJ and Garcia at the front of the jet, attention on each other, all giving Reid as much privacy as possible. Satisfied they'll keep that way for a while he sits back in his seat with another heavy sigh, his own tenuous hold on his emotions at risk of breaking if he doesn't take a minute to regroup. Rhymically carding his hand through Reid's damp curly hair Hotch relaxes with the familar weight against his chest and allows his mind to wander to something pleasant, but unfortunately thinking of home, of Haley and then Jack his mind brings him full circle back to Spencer and the events which have led to this heart-breaking, team-dynamic altering moment.
Hypervigilance; i'A reaction to danger so intense that the person affected will stay in a heightened state of anxiety until they find a means of escape and should escape be impossible coping behaviours such as seeking something or someone to hold onto may result.'i
It's right out of the 'dealing with victims of trauma' handbook and they missed it in Reid. It made him so mad he wanted to kick himself, and if the kid wasn't currently so reliant on him remaining still and calm then maybe he would have. Hotch should have known something wasn't right from the moment they found him, but had been so surprised by the hug, so happy to find him alive and then so focused on blaming himself that thinking went completely out the window. Profilers, FBI Agents, it didn't matter, this affected them on a personal level and that meant they missed all the usual clues which would have helped them help Reid sooner, before the anxiety got to the 'too exhausted to keep fighting' stage.
As much as he wishes the team weren't here as witnesses to this breakdown Hotchknows Reid can trust them and told him as much while he was whispering in his ear, encouraging him to stop fighting. However holding the young man in his arms now, feeling his adrenaline induced tremors lessen Hotch can't help but think it should be Gideon offering this comfort. So far no one's questioned that's it him taking care of Reid, but they will and Hotch fears Gideon's often bad habit of internalising pain, to the point he forgets those closest to him, is going become an issue within the team before long. He knows this because he knows Gideon and remembers the look they shared in the cemetery when Reid threw himself at him, desperately seeking safety.
As the unit chief Hotch tries to keep a level of professionalism about him at all times, but Reid's arms looping around his neck, holding on for dear life changed everything. Once he got over his initial surprise Hotch returned the hug with as much feeling as it was given, but it came at a price, breaking the emotional barrier he'd put up in order to find Reid in the first place. He'd nearly lost it twice at the Hankel house already. The first time when he'd seen Reid on the computer screens, the second when Hankel put a gun to his head demanding he choose. Third time was strike out, so he released Reid, thankful JJ was there to fill the gap and left, seeking privacy to pull himself back together. It worked, with more than a little help from Prentiss. Her ambushing of him certainly ensured he had his head back on straight in record time, and he in turn past her wise message onto Morgan when it seemed he was falling down that particular rabbit hole back at the hospital. Though it begs the question how Prentiss, supposedly someone who's only ever worked a desk, not only seems to know first-hand how trauma victims respond, but is able to keep her head in the field when the rest of them are losing it around her. At the time he put it down to her being the newest addition to the team and therefore the least emotionally invested, but that isn't it. Walking in on her and JJ talking, her comment about compartmentalising better than others, something was off in that conversation.
Shaking those concerns away for now, Hotch files the information away in the back of his mind to examine later. He's too distracted to give serious thought to anything beyond their current situation and just remembering the Hankel house, his key role in sending their youngest profiler and media liaison out without back-up, has him unconsciously squeezing Reid a little tighter.
Hotch doesn't realise he's been staring at them until Morgan catches his eye, directing his gaze down at Reid with deep sadness. He shakes his head at the guilty look, assuring him that this isn't his fault for snapping at Reid about statistics. Instead he points his chin at Gideon, who looks like he's sleeping but is actually more likely ignoring the situation entirely, since he doubts anyone could have slept through all the initial commotion. A stab of paternal anger flares inside his chest when Morgan shakes his head back, but as if sensing his annoyance with Jason not even bothering to enquire after their kid the still too warm body which has collapsed against him shifts in his arms, briefly exposing the wet patch on his shirt now lying coolly against his chest. Looking back up again he catches the occasional glance which the others have started sending their way, obviously they have questions, but he honestly doesn't know how to answer them. However nodding to Morgan's now determined look he promises he'll sort things with Gideon. Reid isn't going to recover overnight and he'll need all of them supporting him to get through this. Hotch is determined he will too, no matter what.