Hey everyone, here is the next chapter for you all. I hope you all enjoy it. I've made this a nice chapter with more Emily than the last chapter. She will feature prominently in the next few chapters. I've always loved her character but I've come to like Blake, who will also appear soon. I realised at the end of this chapter that she's not really been there so she'll be featured in the next chapter. I will say this now, please don't get on my back about the british comment. I'm british myself, I was born here and I still live here. Although if I was step outside my door at the moment, I would do a superman and fly because of the weather. Enjoy and I look forward to hearing from you.

Thank you all so much for all the reviews, you're magnificent and gublertastic, I want to hug you all and just spin you around. Thank you!

Enjoy and please review

All mistakes are my own

The next day

"I got you," Emily assured Reid, her arms around him and keeping him steady. "Take it nice and slow."

Reid slowly walked to the bathroom that was in his room. The virus had made his muscles weaker and being unconscious for two weeks, not moving at all in his bed, had made walking difficult. Each step on the cold floor made him smile, the feeling of the cold on his skin was something that he cherished after feeling nothing but heat and fire in his veins. Emily opened the door and helped guide him in.

"I'm good from here," he nodded as he grabbed the blue bar. His grip was weaker than he liked but he wasn't about to have Emily help him with something so personal.

"I'll be right outside. The moment I hear a thud, I'm opening this door and going into rescue mode."

"What did the british do to you?" he joked before closing the door.

As he did his business, he was glad the doctors had removed his catheter, the removal itself had not been pleasant or comfortable. He moved to the sink slowly and washed his hands, the water sliding to his finger tips and falling as if they were raindrops. He gripped the sink to steady himself after he dried his hands. "Emily, I think I need some help."

"Emily the rescuer is at your service," she said as she came through the door.

"You've already had your coffee, haven't you?"

"I have,"she laughed gently.

"Oh, I would love some coffee, I miss the smell and the taste of it."

"Sorry, Reid, you can't have any coffee. I'm not about to sneak you some either. Going cold turkey with coffee might even do you some good. You consume too much of it."

"I do not," he argued softly as she helped him back into the warm bed, a bed that Garcia had personalised with her own brand of pillows and plush toys. She pulled the cover back over him and fluffed out his pillows.

"Reid, you spend over fifty dollars a week on coffee, add what you get free at work, you should have turned into a coffee bean by now."

"What about your addiction to chocolate?"

"Every woman has a addiction to chocolate so you can't use that against me."

"I love having you back here," he said happily. "I miss talking to you about foreign films and eavesdropping on your conversations with Morgan about Kurt Vonnegut."

"I always wondered why you sat so close to us," she smirked before sighing. "I've missed you all too. I love working at Interpol but I always loved working here with you all. Being back with you all, it brings back that wonderful feeling of being part of a family."

"Why did you leave?" he questioned, curious about her reasons for moving to London.

"After Doyle, things just never felt the same. The team felt different and I knew that I had caused too many cracks, minor ones by the end, for me to fully repair. I couldn't settle down like you all have. I've always been like that."

"You stayed with us for years," he pointed out.

"I did and I will never forget working with you all and being there for the special moments we all had together. JJ's wedding, your belated birthday party, cooking with Rossi, and so many more moments that I'll never forget. I moved for a fresh start but I will alway have you all here. I'm never going to give you up and besides, do you think Garcia would ever let me get away?"

"If she could, I think we would all have tracking chips inside of us," he chuckled.

"Coloured pink knowing her," Emily giggled.

Garcia brought up the spoon and began to feed him the soup that the nurses had delivered. His hand shook too much to feed himself. He let out a small moan as the chicken soup slid across his tongue, bringing his taste buds back to life. He licked a small drop that tried to slip down his chin.

"I've never tasted anything so wonderful," he moaned joyfully.

Garcia pouted. "You wound me, Spencer Reid."

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry," he apologised. "It's just nice having food, even if it is just soup. The moment I feel like I can handle a cupcake, I'll call upon you, the queen of cupcakes."

"Now you're just flattering me," she blushed playfully.

"What is happening with Vincent?" he asked between the mouthful of soup.

Placing the spoon in the bowl, she looked up. "He's being held in a secure detainment centre by the US government and is facing charges of murder, attempted murder and terrorism charges. He is never going to see daylight again. His virus is also being locked away."

"They should destroy it," Reid shook his head. "It felt as if my blood was boiling and it felt as if I was in a bubble, destined to die with only my mind keeping me company."

"You got the cure and that is all that matters."

"No," he disagreed angrily. "I may have received the cure but Gideon didn't get it in time. He died trapped inside his own body and in horrific pain. That virus should burn and die."

"Sweetie, calm down," she urged as she noticed his breathing becoming wheezy. He put his hand against his chest and let out a few painful coughs. Garcia grabbed a small inhaler from the side unit. The doctors had left it for him to use if this started to happen. She put it to his mouth and pressed down, he breathed in and began to calm down.

Reid felt Garcia's hand rubbed his back in a soothing motion. "Just breathe, there you go, nice and easy."

"I feel twice my age," he wheezed.

"How do you think that makes me feel?" Rossi's voice came through the room. He walked over to see Reid smiling and calming down. "Sorry for not being here."

"That's okay."

"Are you okay?"

"His lungs aren't as great as they were," Garcia explained. "It'll take time for them to recover. He needs to stay calm."

"You have to take it easy, Reid."

Garcia laid him back down against his pillows and kissed his cheek. "Don't made me get all wrathful on you. I'll sneak a sedative into a cupcake if I have to."

Laying in his hospital bed, he used Garcia's laptop to check on a few things. No news of the virus had reached the news, he knew it was standard protocol to keep the public in the dark about anything that would cause a panic. He used Garcia's email account and typed in Stephen Gideon's email address.

Dear Stephen,

This is Spencer Reid, we met once when your dad introduced us at his house, I don't know if you remember me. I'm just emailing to say that I'm sorry for your loss. Your father was an amazing man who gave me direction in my life and who also saved my life. Not only with the recent event but in the past. I'd like to talk to you over the phone or face to face. I wanted to ask your permission to speak to you. He saved my life and I'm sorry that he died the way he did. He was a great man who deserved to live a much longer life.
Again, I'm sorry for your loss and if there is anything I can do, please call me. I want to help.

Spencer Reid

He closed the laptop after he had sent the email. Closing his eyes, he felt his heart ache. Gideon had always been a father to him and while he had left the same way his actual father had, he still left him with the skills to truly be an FBI agent.

"Goodbye, Gideon," he whispered.

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