I still don't own this show or any of the characters either, but I'm entertaining myself at least. Thank you to those who took the time to review. I appreciate it. And now, on with the story…

And Still We Smile

Chapter Four

"No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man

will store up in his ghostly heart."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

"So you're telling us that physically he should be fine, other than that left foot and ankle and some withdrawal symptoms from the Dilaudid?" Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was asking the doctor who'd been charged with Reid's care upon arrival. His gaze was serious – intense and perhaps a bit intimidating. He wanted straight answers. Reid had been through put through hell, and Hotch planned to know what all they were really going to be dealing with.

"I believe so, yes," the older ER doctor was answering, meeting Hotch's gaze evenly. "There are minor cuts and bruises obviously, but on the whole, the psychological healing is going to be much more of a concern than the physiological. It's amazing really how well he managed to come out of this as to the actual bodily harm sustained. I'm not going to pretend, however, that there won't be mental and emotional scars that will be much more severe."

Gideon nodded sadly, almost as if he'd expected this diagnosis, though it hurt him to hear it confirmed. Hotch felt for once as if he could read Jason's mind instead of it being the other way around. 'As supervisors – as heads of the team – shouldn't they have done a better job protecting their youngest member? How did things go so horribly wrong?'

Firmly shrugging aside the thought that he knew would come next, 'Why did I send Reid and JJ out to Hankel's alone?" Hotch turned his full attention back to the doctor, who was still speaking.

"In the line of work your team does, he could easily suffer flashbacks to this ordeal, triggered by one of your crime scenes. He could be jumpy, paranoid, irritable with people. He may even try to withdraw from everyone as a self-defense mechanism. I wouldn't even be shocked if he no longer felt able to work in the field."

Glancing over to Gideon again, Hotch could see that this last statement came at the older agent almost like a blow to the chest. But neither of them spoke, as if in silent agreement to let the man finish, even as they refused to accept that Reid couldn't overcome these odds.

"In summation, the lasting damage could be minimal; an occasional flashback or panic attack, etcetera. But it could just as easily be hugely impacting; with depression, constant fear and paranoia, if not dealt with properly. And when you take into account the family history…"

Hotch nodded again here, effectively cutting off the doctor's last statement before it could be voiced. That this could somehow trigger Reid's genetic predisposition to schizophrenia was almost too horrible to consider. "Thank you, doctor. We'll make sure to take care of him," was all that he said aloud.

The doctor took his hint and informed them that they could go back to Reid's room now, as long as the whole team didn't overwhelm him at once. Then Hotch turned to Gideon, speaking softly, feeling nearly as unsure as he had ever been. "We're going to survive this, Jason," he said firmly, his voice determined and hard as steel. "This team is going to be whole again. Reid is going to be fine."

And though Gideon nodded his silent agreement, he didn't speak or offer to look Hotch in the eye. Hotch wondered suddenly if Gideon truly did think he was right, or if he could already see with his uncanny intuition some sort of disaster ahead. In reality, he didn't even want to know what Gideon was seeing or thinking, if he was going to lead his team through this crisis, he was going to have to believe his own words.

As they returned to Reid's room and glanced through the window, they were surprised to see Garcia had left, though Prentiss was still sleeping in the bedside chair where they had left her. Oddly, it looked as though Reid had gotten up for some reason. He was lying on the bed, but he was no longer under the covers, and the way his arms and legs were flung haphazardly over the mattress, made it look as though he'd barely managed to get himself back across the room before flopping down in exhaustion.

Hotch's cell chose that moment to ring, and he turned away, retreating a few steps so as not to disturb the quiet, before he answered.

Gideon, however, quietly entered the room and stood for a while; looking at Reid, watching him sleep. Imprinting the image on his mind. He really did come back to them. They hadn't lost him yet, and now that he was with them again, there was no way they were going to lose him a second time because they couldn't help him deal with the aftermath. Surely, as a team – as a family – they could fight this and win. Just like any other unseen enemy they would face.

Gently, he placed a hand on Prentiss' shoulder and woke her saying, "Why don't you catch a few winks on the other bed in here? You'd be more comfortable. I'll sit with him for a while."

She blinked and sat up, looking slightly embarrassed at being caught napping, but then smiled a 'thank you' and got up and did as he suggested. Watching her curl up tightly, he sighed, realizing they were all exhausted and feeling much less safe than they had a few days ago.

Taking the chair she'd vacated, Gideon scooted it closer to Reid's bed and reached out to lay a hand on the younger man's forearm, hoping it would provide a comforting touch. "We're all pulling for you, Reid," he spoke softly into the quiet, continuing to watch his protégée, this man he almost considered a son, fitfully sleep. "You're going to get through this."