A/N: Finally! I've been trying to update this for three days but the cite was being stupid. Sorry for that. Thank you all for the amazing reviews. I'm going to try to update every day, hopefully something like this won't happen again. Hope you all enjoy the chapter.

Fate

Chapter 2: Waiting

There's a simple form every agent fills out when they come to the FBI. An emergency contact. People can die in this line of work and we need to know who to contact if anything happens. I remember Reid's first day working for me. He came into my office after I was given this form by the people in the records department. It seemed that Reid had never filled one out. When I asked him to complete one, he replied that he couldn't. He had no family that were competent enough to deal with medical emergencies and he had no close friends. I knew that his mother was schizophrenic from his background checks, but I couldn't quite believe that he had no one else out there to care about his well-being. After some useless prodding, I put myself down. He seemed uncomfortable with the decision, but he didn't protest.

I think both of us had forgotten about it until he went missing. Suddenly I had to decide what to do with Reid's possessions and home. As time went by I had forgotten again, until I received that phone call. I was his boss, but I was also in charge of his medical decisions if he was unable to take care of them himself. I was kind of relieved. It was my acceptable excuse to go down there. Morgan and Gideon wouldn't have taken being denied by anyone. I was just lucky that I couldn't be denied by anyone.

The flight there was surprisingly silent. The air was brimming with nervous energy. We couldn't wait to see him, to assure ourselves that he was really okay and that he really had been returned to us. We were excited to see him, but hesitant as well.

The sheriff hadn't gone into detail of how Reid was or how they had found him. What would we find when we got there? Would he still be our Reid? Or would his experiences over the last year and four months have changed him? We deal with the worst of what people do to other people. I couldn't help but imagine the worst. I had to be realistic. Though, no matter how he was now, we wouldn't abandon him. We'd take him back any way that he was, but it would hurt to see him damaged beyond repair by this.

The butterflies in my stomach only got more agitated as we drove to the hospital. The sheriff had sent one of his officers to take us. It was a nice gesture, but we were irritated by the fact that the officer had no new information for us. We were being kept in the dark and I didn't like it.

I was shaking by the time we got to the hospital. We were quickly taken to the sheriff who's name I really hadn't listened to when he called. I found it to be Eric Pryce when we exchanged names.

Morgan cut through the small talk by asking, more like demanding, to see Reid.

"I don't know where he is. I was waiting for the doctor." Pryce replied.

We all groaned in frustration. It had been so long since we'd seen our resident genius. No matter what people say, after waiting a year it would be just as hard, if not even harder waiting any more time when we so close.

We found the closest waiting room and tried to settle down. Gideon and Pryce sat calmly, although I doubt Gideon was very calm on the inside. Morgan was wearing away the cheap carpet from his pacing and I watched him as I fiddled with my sunglasses and anything else I could get my hands on..

When I started to get dizzy I stopped watching Morgan and watched clock. I watched ten more minutes crawl by. I think Morgan may have pulled out his gun had the doctor not shown up at that moment.

The older man was somber and a bolt of fear shot through my heart at what that look could mean. He looked down at the chart before looking back at us and asking, "Are you here for Spencer Reid?"

Gideon stepped up and nodded, asking in reply, "How is he?"

"I need to talk to his emergency contact... Aaron Hotchner."

"That's me." I answered.

"Will you take a walk with me, please?" By now I was thinking the worst. Why did Reid's doctor want to talk to me alone? Were there complications? Had he... died suddenly?

Morgan voiced my fears, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I really need to speak privately with Mr. Hotchner."

"Hotch?" Morgan said, turning to me. I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do, but I tried to assure him.

"It's okay. Whatever you have to say you can tell them."

The doctor shook his head, "You really need to come with me."

I complied, telling Morgan and Gideon that I would talk to them when I came back. Thankfully the doctor took me to Reid's room. I didn't care what was wrong. I thought could handle it, as long as I got to see him. Laying my eyes on him for the first time in more than a year was surreal. It was like seeing a ghost. It made me realize that I never thought I was going to see him again.

My eyes took in his injuries as I half listened to the doctor explain them. The bruises and cuts on his face. "He has a concussion and five stitches in his forehead." Every minute or so his breathing would hitch. "Two broken ribs." The bright white cast around his left forearm. "A broken ulna. That's the bone on the outside of his wrist. The side his pinky's on." He looked thin, even for him. "He's slightly malnourished and dehydrated."

From there the doctor went on to say what they were going to do for him and how long he might be in the hospital, but I wasn't listening. After taking in his injuries I realized why he looked so pale. With a jolt I noticed that his hair wasn't the light brown it usually was. His skin had looked almost white compared to the bottle black his hair was now. It was a small detail and paled in comparison to his injuries, but it bothered me. It bothered me a lot. I doubt Reid had done it himself and it was horrible to think that whoever had abducted him had taken away even the simple right to choose his hair color.

As I pondered this, the doctor realized that I hadn't been listening. He called my name and said that he would get to the point. Sometimes I had nightmares about what Reid was going through. I had hoped to God that they weren't true. That they were just my imagination. I had hoped to God the doctor wouldn't say my fears were true.

God let me down.

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