A/N: I am sooo sorry for the long update. It's the holidays so what do ya expect?! Hahaha. I know this seems like a filler chapter, but it needed to be done so don't get all ~bored~ with me please rofl. Anyway I promise some really good stuff in the next update (which WILL be in approx. 2-3 days). I hope everyone had a great Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate. :) Enjoy.
The doors opened so many times. Morgan didn't miss a glance each time either, in hopes the regards were good news for himself and his friend. They were all empty hopes though, three hours having passed since they had arrived at the hospital. He advised the team that there was nothing they could do there, so they should just try and either finally get some rest or work what they were considering their case. No one slept. That was for certain.
At intervals of every fifteen minutes at least someone from the team would call. At first it was a bit irritating, but it helped keep Morgan awake and that was all that mattered at that point. The news he had already received was beyond unsettling, but it was nothing compared to what could come next. For this is why Morgan sat in the uncomfortable plastic seat of the emergency room and kept his thumbs pressed into his temples. Not thinking would make the situation all the more better, but it was far from possible.
"Morgan," came a steady, monotonous voice from above the man whom was crouched over. His thumbs continuously rolled circles into his temples. Even Morgan would admit that the presence was a bit shocking, considering he had been paying attention so well not even two minutes ago as to who came up to him.
"Hotch," he muttered, looking up slowly as he blinked away his sleepiness. It was so well strewn into everyone's faces, but no one would admit it.
Hotch pulled a seat from beside Morgan and placed it in front of him, so as to sit directly across from him. Morgan really couldn't decide how Hotch held his composure in a time like this when he himself was ready to punch a hole through the wall from just waiting.
"Has the doctor told you anything? When J.J. called me, she said the only thing you told her was that he is in surgery." A few blank blinks caused creases in Morgan's worn out face, but he cleared his throat nonetheless.
"Full report on what I know?"
"I would expect nothing less."
"Doc said uh, he's bleeding internally. It was really weird because for the life of me, I don't remember him bleeding so badly until I looked at my hands before getting out of the ambulance. Everything was fine, but then it wasn't. Well, it wasn't fine – it was – you know..." Morgan looked down at his hands that were now clean of the blood, though his sleeves were not. "He um, he's got a concussion to his left temporal lobe. Puncture wounds on his right forearm... from what he assumed was from a syringe. But they were really just jabbed holes in his skin, Hotch. Like when an addict shakes too much when trying to shoot up and bleeds everywhere from missing a vein. It couldn't have been him though; first of all he isn't left handed. They don't know what he was drugged with yet."
"The crime scene unit found Dilaudid... or what was left of it in Reid's living room." Morgan winced and shook his head.
"I don't know what it was doing there, but Reid is not using. And as far as I'm concerned, when he gets out of here, he won't see the shit ever again." Morgan's rising temper subsided within a few moments, giving him the chance to finish. "There's abrasions on his wrists and ankles. His ankles are cut-" the longer he went on, the more it seemed to settle within Morgan that this was real; seemingly making him feel nauseated, "-he'll need stitches. I don't really know what they're doing right now except for the surgery. 'Haven't heard word in a couple of hours. It's driving me crazy, man." Explaining what the doctor had told Morgan to Hotch made the images all the more clear within his mind. He had been with Reid, but the mental images were so much worse. What he truly wanted to do to the man who'd done it would be completely unethical and inappropriate.
Morgan swore he saw emotion in Hotch's eyes as he finally met them with his own, but within a flicker it dissipated. Though the news seemed to have made his superior incapable of speaking.
"That's all they know for now anyway. We'll know more when he's out of surgery. When he wakes up too. The psychological damage, man, I can't even begin to wonder what this son of a bitch-"
"Morgan, being angry at a time like this isn't going to help anything. Just be strong for Reid. He needs it from all of us. The last thing he'll want to wake up to is hateful eyes." With a small nod, Morgan's lips sealed shut. For a few minutes, the two men sat in an uncomfortable silence. It was as if all the silence in the room brought the most chaos in these situations. Chaos. Finally, Morgan spoke again.
"Did you uh, find Robert Priest yet?" Without looking up to meet his subordinate's eyes, Hotch shook his head and sighed.
"No. He never returned to Reid's apartment, which makes logical sense. We don't know why he left in the first place. We don't really know anything. Reid's car was missing, so that probably means the UnSub used it to transport himself to wherever he went. The car used to get there was still in the lot though, so it's being processed as we speak. We'll catch him, Morgan. Don't worry so much about that."
Not even Hotch could believe the words he had spoken, for more than anything at the moment, he wanted to put the bastard behind bars. Well perhaps knowing Reid was okay was his first priority, but he didn't have the strong emotion of rage writhing within him for Reid – just his abductor.
"You're here for Spencer Reid, correct?" asked a voice behind Hotch. Both agents quickly stood up, facing him.
"Yes, I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner. Do you have any news from the surgery?"
The only times Reid could remember something being so bright were when he dreamt high. The sensation of drugs taking over his body and enticing him both excited and scared him. In the long run, he knew it was horrible – but it felt right. He knew the statistics. It's never as good as the first time and he'd spend the rest of his addiction trying to find that high again, but realistically speaking, Reid wasn't all that logical when he was using.
Every line around him seemed blurred. He was either awake and extremely high or asleep in some kind of amazing dream. That's what it would feel like – amazing. Except everything was wrong. The light was too bright and the lines were too blurred. Voices were speaking to him from what seemed like within.
'God no, please don't let me turn into my mother. I can't be my mother' was the only recurring thought in his head.
Blink.
He was now laying on a cold surface that seemed to be metal. Whatever it was, his body heat refused to radiate it whatsoever. His body trembled furiously, but he could not figure out what the hell was wrong. He was in a morgue. He was in a morgue and was surrounded by a small, confined space. It was so cold. So. Very. Cold. The idea of being able to get out seemed impossible, even without the effort of trying. No matter how hard he attempted to life them, his limbs refused to listen to his brain. His body was dead, but his mind was very, very alive.
Blink.
Running. Running so fast he could barely feel the earth beneath him. He had no coherence to what he was running from, but he had to. He just knew he had to. Then suddenly his body felt strangled. He couldn't breathe as well as before. This decided him to hide behind a rather large tree. The obvious seemed so logical.
"Reid?" called out Morgan's worried voice from behind him. A hope spiked from within him. His friends had come to save him. They were going to surely take him home. For the strangest reason, Reid couldn't remember 'home' whatsoever. In the moment, it didn't matter. He stepped out from behind the tree and was face to face with his colleague. "Glad I found you," said his voice, more mischievous and possessed than anything else.
Blink.
It wasn't Morgan anymore. It was Rob. Rob who held the weapon that would surely cause his death. Running again. He didn't even know how he was doing it. It was like he was invincible, but not so at all. Every sense seemed to stop, even his breath perhaps. He was running with no breath or heart beat, but he was running faster than any Olympian racer ever had. He could make the statistics.
If anyone would be around to tell his story.
His socked feet stopped suddenly, causing his balance to unravel from beneath him. He was at a cliff and it was too late to take back the steps he had so easily forced forward. He should've watched where he was going. He should've noticed how dangerous his surroundings were. The laugh behind him was what irked him the most as he fell into nothingness.
The only thought in his head as he awaited his death being 'I'm not going to wake up this time, am I?'.
"Reid! Reid! Man, wake up!" bellowed a concerned Morgan as he gently poked at a part of his friend's body that didn't look like it was going through immense pain. By the time Reid's heavily lidded eyelids lifted slightly, another figure approached his bedside. He couldn't make out faces – just voices. Morgan's voice had been in his dream, but it was just a disguise.
The youngest man began to shake vigorously, seemingly backing into a corner cowardly. "C-can't you just l-leave me alone?" croaked a very scratchy, low, confused and scared voice.
"Reid it's just us. Morgan and Hotch. Stop doing that or the IV will rip right out of your skin and I don't think anyone in this room wants to see how much pain you're really in." A few more blinks, and Reid was back to reality. The chills the dream had sent up his spine had finally vanished and he took a few careful breaths – as if they could be his last.
"You found me..." he muttered, more-so to himself than anything else. An easy smile was placed on Morgan's lips and even Hotch's stern frown lifted at the corners.
"Yeah, kid. We did. Of course we did. You're good now – well considering you don't plan on being really active within the next few weeks." A moment passed, nothing significant or life-changing. Everyone indulged in it though. For that small moment, everything was okay. Each face was calm and each heart rate beat steadily.
"This means you kicked in the door to my apartment, doesn't it?" asked Spencer, a small playfulness in his voice as he stared down Morgan.
"You bet your ass I did. I enjoyed every second of it too."
"For you it takes like three fifth's of a second." Hotch's eyes scanned over both of his subordinates. Something within him calmed slightly and he almost felt intrusive to the conversation he was more-so witnessing than interacting in. His time to speak with Reid was not now. It would come, eventually.
"I'm going to go grab some coffee. Do you want some, Morgan?"
"Yeah sure, man." Morgan nodded and Hotch descended out of the small room into the hallway.
Uncomfortably shifting, Reid attempted to sit up, finding a sharp pain stopping him in his tracks along with a warning voice from Morgan. "Don't even think about it. Just stay like that for now. I should tell the nurse you're awake."
"I'm sure Hotch already has. Just – give me a minute. I don't even... I don't even know." Morgan sat back down in the chair that was pulled up to the hospital bed and placed a reassuring hand on Reid's arm.
"How are you feeling? I mean, I know you're on a lot of Morphine right now and – trust me – I don't want you to worry about not being able to feel in control of your body. Or craving after this or something. I'm going to be here for you through all of this. I want you to know that, alright? You're not going to need to feel alone."
Reid smiled, obliviously. Completely out of place as if the words Morgan said had been extremely different.
"Oh no, I feel fine. I've never felt better actually. If anything, you look like you're in rougher shape than me." His eyes were dark, eyebrows contorting as if he were in some sort of pain.
"I know the Morphine is good, but there's not way in hell you're-"
"I'm fine, Morgan. Don't push it." His voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave as he glared at his friend. Morgan nodded and folded his arms over his chest.
"Alright then. I'm going to go find Hotch with my coffee. I'll be back in a minute." The face of the younger colleague looked extremely bewildered. He couldn't place from what though. Just that he looked like a whole pool of emotions; false-confidence, fear, worry, stress and hurt, the list adding up within the agent's mind. "I promise," he reassured when Reid didn't respond. The younger man just nodded slowly, the empty expression coming upon him again.
Slowly, making sure Reid was okay, Morgan walked outside and closed the door behind him. Hotch was sitting on a bench right beside the door, sipping on some coffee. Another mug sat at his feet, but Morgan assumed he hadn't wanted to intrude.
"I have no doubt he's suffering from acute stress disorder, Hotch," Morgan said slowly, taking a seat next to the man. "It's like – he's pretending nothing happened. Like he's just at his once-a-week stay in the hospital. I know we see it all the time, but I feel like – with all the knowledge he has, he should be able to, I don't know, figure it out."
Hotch took a deep breath and sighed.
"You and I both know he can't help it, Morgan. More than anyone. His best bet is therapy and a psychological evaluation, which we also know he will try to get out of. Reid's just like any one of us. You have to admit we're arrogant and we don't like admitting we need help. And it's not like it's the first time..." Hotch trailed off. He didn't want to finish the sentence. He had yet to figure out what seemed worse to him – the time before when Reid was abducted or now. How he was such an easy target wasn't rocket science, but it didn't help settle the feeling in the unit chief's gut. He still could remember how tightly Reid clung to him after they had found him the first time. This time, he wasn't conscious enough for his rescue. The pain seemed equally as bad from either situation and the worst part was, there was nothing anyone could really do about it.
"But it's the last," Morgan finally said, patting Hotch's knee before standing up.
"Hey Morgan?" Hotch called out before Morgan placed his hand on the door to Reid's room. "When he's able to be released, I think it would be a good idea if he stayed with you for a little while. There's no way he'll be able to go back to his apartment, much less do I think he can handle being alone."
"I was just about to go inside and give him the offer."
A/N numero DOS: Okay guys, again I know this is just more so a filler chapter. Actually, there will be some humor in the next chapter or so, along with a mess of other emotions I assure you. Thank you guys for sticking with me :) And nooo the story isn't almost over. It's got a few chapters left. I promise. Until next time! Oh and the rest of the team will be wayy more involved I just wanted to keep this personal with Hotch and Morgan for reasons unsaid yet. K gooodnight. :)
