Honestly, I had no idea I would be able to publish this today, but I think the adrenaline rush of knowing today is the last day of classes for me, really helped. Yay! Now on to Internship until November. sigh Still, I can hardly believe I will have my Masters before Thanksgiving this year. Sorry if this is a little rough, but I wrote it much faster than most of my chapters.
Anyway, this is my little way to celebrate. If you'd like to get me something, I happily accept reviews – hint, hint! Hope you enjoy!
I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.
XOXOXOXO
While Hotch was getting Reid back home and tucked into bed, Morgan made a side trip to pick up the young man's prescriptions, orange juice and chicken soup. Arriving at Hotch's apartment, Morgan quietly checked in on Reid and found his little brother sound asleep. Next, he rooted out Hotch sitting at the dining room table rubbing his eyes over the book in his hand. "What're you reading?" he asked.
Closing the book, Hotch turned red, tired eyes up to the younger agent. Showing him the cover, he said, "Under the Influence".
Morgan looked over the other recovery books scattered across the table. "What're you doin', Hotch?"
Hotch gazed at Morgan waiting for the younger man to explain the question.
"You were up most of the night. You're exhausted." Seeing Hotch about to protest, he quickly asserted, "Go to bed, man. I'll hold down the fort."
Surprising Morgan, Hotch conceded. Rising from the table with visible effort, the older man clapped him on the arm in passing. He was almost out of the room, when he turned around, "What time is Reid due to take his first dose?"
Chuckling at Hotch's hyper-vigilance, he said, "Later tonight. Don't worry about it Hotch. I'll still be here." Watching Hotch go, he opened his cell to call Garcia and asked her to let the team know that he and Hotch would be taking care of Reid today.
Concern in her voice, she asked, "Why? What's happened to my baby boy?"
"Calm down, girl." Morgan soothed, "He's just a little sick."
"And you both have to stay with him? Come on, Sugar Bear. What's really going on?"
Morgan smiled thinking once again that Garcia would have made a decent profiler herself. At least she was really good at reading her family. "He has pneumonia, baby girl. Hotch took him to the hospital last night. He's going to be fine; he's just going to need a lot of care for a little while."
Relieved, she said, "Okay, I'll let everyone know. Call if my boy needs anything."
Hanging up, Morgan sighed. He took Hotch's seat at the table and picked up a book. It was time he learned more about this disease that had his little brother in its grip.
XOXOXOXO
Forty five minutes later Morgan jumped from his seat, startled by a strangled cry. He bolted down the hall to Reid's room as fast as he could, but found Hotch already there. The older man was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding down one of Reid's thrashing arms with one hand, and gently stroking the crying young man's face while trying to wake him. Morgan stood helplessly watching from the door.
"Spencer. You're okay. Wake up, kiddo." Hotch kept his voice soft and calm.
As concerned as he was for the kid, Morgan couldn't help but grin. He had never seen their unyielding boss act like this before.
"H-Hotch! Get it off!" With his free hand, Reid flayed at the air above him.
"Spencer. I'm here. I've got you. Come on, look at me. Look at me." Hotch coaxed.
Suddenly, the frightened young man's eyes flew open. Searching the room, his eyes ultimately latched onto Hotch's face. He took a deep breath, and then sat up fighting a coughing fit. Pathetically, he leaned his head on Hotch's chest and started to cry even as his coughing subsided. Hotch comfortingly rubbed his back. "I-I'm s-sorry." He eventually cried out, and then started violently coughing again.
Hotch looked at Morgan. Quietly he requested, "Can you get the cough syrup from the medicine chest?" As Morgan hurried to retrieve the bottle, Hotch held Reid close and rubbed his back as he desperately struggle against coughing and crying.
Returning with the medicine and a spoon, Morgan poured it and held the spoon out, "Open up, kid."
Hotch gently pushed Reid away and encouraged him to take the medication.
Embarrassed at having Morgan 'feed' him, Reid reached for the filled spoon. Before he could grasp it though, he succumbed to another coughing fit. Morgan quickly and smoothly slipped the spoon into the kid's mouth.
Startled, Reid swallowed the cherry flavored liquid. He was amazed at how quickly it pacified his cough. He tried to wipe away the tears as surreptitiously as he could, "I-I-"
"Reid, it's okay, man. What were you dreaming about?" Morgan asked.
Looking up at Morgan with wide, frightened eyes, Reid quietly breathed, "Bears. Well, one bear this time. It was sitting on my chest." Remembering the terror of the dream, he wheezed heavily.
As Hotch placed the palm of his hand on the young man's forehead, Morgan asked, "Again? What is it with you and bears kid?"
Reid shrugged. He honestly didn't know why it was always bears.
"Is that what you were dreaming about last night too?" Hotch hadn't realized there was an ongoing theme to his nightmares.
Dropping his eyes to the blankets, Reid sadly nodded his head. He was embarrassed to always be disturbing Morgan and Hotch with his nightmares. He would stop them if he could.
"Your fever's back up Spencer." He grabbed a couple of Ibuprofin from the bedside table and handed them to Reid. After he swallowed them, Hotch pressed the young man back down onto the bed, pulled the blankets up to cover him and said, "Try to get some more sleep if you can. Morgan and I will be nearby if you need anything."
Reid's eyelids felt extremely heavy. As he shut them, he offered a weak nod and quickly fell asleep.
XOXOXOXO
Reid slept off and on most of the day without any more nightmares. Hotch and Morgan took turns making sure he took in enough fluids and remained relatively comfortable. In between they worked on office paperwork and reviewed more of Hotch's accumulated books. When Reid was feeling better, they would both be ready to help him tackle his addiction.
Remembering Jack's old baby monitor in storage, Hotch took a short break to riffle through the boxes until he found it. Thinking the device might embarrass Reid, he snuck it into his room while he was sleeping and hid it behind a lamp. There was no need for the young man to know it was there, and the two older men would no longer feel the need to continuously press an ear against his door.
At 6pm Hotch started dinner while Morgan turned on the basketball game. He had just settled in when there was a rapid knock at the door. From the kitchen, Hotch said, "Get that, will you Morgan?"
Morgan looked through the peep hole before happily opening the door and greeting Garcia, "Hey Mama! What're you doin' here?"
Bustling in, arms loaded down with a large covered basket, she wasted no time in getting to the point, "How's my sweet, sickly boy doing?"
Morgan followed her into the kitchen, "His fever is lower now, but he's still sleeping a lot."
Dropping her basket on the counter, she looked at Hotch, "Sleeping is good." She turned to Morgan, "How high is the fever?"
"Last time I checked it was 100.3," Morgan responded.
"And when was that?" Garcia briskly continued.
Morgan glanced helplessly at Hotch who tried hard not to grin. Returning his attention to Garcia, he stammered out, "Uh, a-about three hours ago."
"Boys! I should have known better than to leave my sick baby in your hands." Turning to Hotch, "where's the thermometer?"
Refusing to stammer, he carefully answered, "In the bathroom." And added before she could chastise him for something, "disinfecting."
"Right. I'll be right back. Do not touch my basket." She ordered as she marched her way toward her mission.
Both men looked at the mysterious basket with raised eyebrows and softly chuckled. Morgan went back to the game as Hotch tossed the chicken and vegetables into the oven.
He grinned as he listened to Garcia over the baby monitor.
XOXOXOXO
She sat on the side of the bed, gently placing a hand on his forehead. "Reid?" she whispered, "I need to take your temperature."
"Garcia?" he moaned.
"Don't open your eyes, sweetie, just open your mouth." He did as directed, and she carefully put the device in place. Pressing up on the young man's chin to encourage him to close his mouth, she talked to him, "How're you feeling? No, wait. Don't answer that yet."
As Garcia removed the thermometer, Reid broke into a deep and violent cough. Garcia became concerned at he began to turn red. She could tell the cough wasn't nearly as productive as it needed to be to help him get rid of the infection. When the attack subsided, he groaned and weakly lay back on his pillow, trying to breathe without restarting the cough.
"Oh, my poor boy," she soothed as she rubbed circles in his aching chest. "I have just the thing for you, but first you need to drink more water. Here you go." She handed him the sports bottle and waited while he took small sips. "Now, you're not going to be able to get out of bed for the next half hour, so let me know now if you need to use the restroom first."
Her bluntness disconcerted the young man. He blushed and spluttered out, "N-no, I'm – I'm fine. Garcia, what are you planning to do?"
"It won't exactly be comfortable, but I promise it'll be over quickly and you'll start feeling a lot better by tomorrow. Your temperature is down to 99.2, so it's safe, but you'll have to be brave for me for a little while. Now, wait for a few minutes while I go get my things."
Whatever she had planned didn't sound at all like something Reid felt like doing. As she stood to leave, he quickly asked, "Wh-what are you planning to do?"
Smiling sweetly, she answered, "Honey, I'm going to bring you a mustard plaster." As Reid's eyes went wide, she hurried out of the room, "You'll be fine darling." And she was gone.
"Hotch! Hotch!" Reid rasped out as loudly as he could as he tried to sit up.
Hotch was on his way as soon as he heard the words "mustard plaster" coming out of the baby monitor.
Meeting Garcia in the hall, Hotch stopped in front of her, "You know I trust you." Receiving a nod from her, he continued, "We need to talk about this before you do anything." With that, he rushed past Garcia and into Reid's bedroom.
Morgan, startled by all the activity, met Garcia on her way to the kitchen, "What's going on, baby girl?" He demanded.
"I think a few of the brave men in this family are afraid of a little mustard plaster. Reid, I understand, but Hotch?"
From the baby monitor they could hear Hotch comforting the sick young man, "It's okay, Spencer. Calm down now."
"Hotch! Do you know what she wants to do to me?" Reid let out a short but deep chested cough.
Grimly he answered, "A mustard plaster. I heard. Don't worry, Spencer. She won't do anything until we talk about it first. Now lay back down and try to relax, okay?"
"Ah." Morgan understood now, and thinking back to his own childhood, he also appreciated the upset. "Umm, Garcia? Do you really think he's up to this? I mean, he was just in the hospital last night."
"Yeah, and his temperature is too low now. Stupid antibiotics do more harm than good." She set to work warming up the poultice. "I know what I'm doing, Morgan. Make him a big glass of this, please?" She handed him a package of orange flavored electrolyte powder.
Shrugging, Morgan went about doing as he was told. The kid wasn't going to be happy about this, but Morgan had survived it many times as a child. Surly Reid could take a few minutes of discomfort without too much of a fight.
When she was satisfied with the temperature, Garcia spread the strong-smelling paste on a large cotton towel.
Morgan crinkled his nose, "What did you put in that, girl? Doesn't smell like my mom's"
Nearly giggling with pride, Garcia answered, "That's my secret ingredient. Horseradish." Seeing the concerned look on Morgan's face, she continued, "Oh relax, will you? I made it half-strength. You think I want to torture the boy?" She folded the poultice up inside the cloth, "See. With it sealed up, I bet it's nowhere near as bad as you remember it. Right? Right?"
"Uh, yeah. Right. I guess." Morgan was still dubious.
Entering the kitchen, Hotch looked as doubtful as the younger man. Garcia stopped him before he could start, "Hotch, I know what you're going to say, but it's not as bad as you remember it, I swear."
Reasonably, Hotch responded, "Garcia, my mother never used mustard plasters. Her mother did, and what I do remember from her stories is that these can severely burn the skin."
Valiantly coming to her rescue, Morgan stepped forward, "Hotch, if they're made right," he turned a warning look on Garcia, "and if they're watched carefully, they don't burn at all. Should just bring his temperature up a little and loosen up his chest. As long as he's drinking this," He held up the large glass of electrolytes, "we're monitoring his temperature every couple of minutes, and keeping an eye on the exposed skin, he'll be fine. Should feel a lot better by tomorrow too. He'll be uncomfortable, but it only lasts for a half hour. A small price to pay for the benefits we'll see tomorrow."
Garcia recognized when Hotch was ready to give in, so she pushed forward, "While you two have been talking, my plaster has been cooling. We need to get a move on if this is going to work." She led the way back to Reid's bedroom, her basket of goodies in hand.
They found the young man lightly snoozing. Garcia sat on the edge of the bed, laid her basket down and carefully pulled the covers down to reveal his cotton pajama covered chest. The older men loomed overhead as she gently unbuttoned his shirt. The cool air hitting his exposed skin awoke the young man.
Morgan quickly moved to the other side of the bed as Reid stirred. He watched as his friend realized what Garcia was doing to him, and pre-emptively warned, "Reid, it's okay, man. Just relax."
Reid turn large, frightened eyes up to Morgan, and then over to Hotch. Realizing they were supporting her in this, he panicked. Pushing Garcia's hands away the best he could, he said, "No! Stop Garcia! I don't want it!"
Morgan quickly bent over the young man, firmly grasped his wrists, and ordered, "Hey! Look at me, kid."
Automatically sliding his eyes over to do as he was told, he immediately felt foolish for reacting so childishly. But he had only ever heard horror stories about mustard plasters. "Morgan," he nearly cried, "I-I don't want it. Please don't make me." One small tear escaped and ran down his cheek.
Feeling like a bully for making his little brother feel so helpless, he sat on the bed and released Reid's wrists, "We're not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, kid."
The fog Reid had felt when he was having a fever was clearly lifting, because he snapped back, "You made me get that shot last night!" The pout immediately returned.
Hotch stepped in to answer, "Your fever was dangerously high. You needed that shot and you weren't thinking clearly at the time. I made the decision I thought was best."
Dropping his eyes to the comforter, Reid whispered, "You were right. I needed that shot. I'm sorry I acted like a baby."
Hotch still felt slightly guilty for putting Reid through that last night, "You weren't feeling well, kiddo. There's nothing to forgive."
Morgan pressed forward, "Now, you want to tell me why this mustard plaster scares you so much?"
Reid spouted out statistics about burning and blistering skin and the uses of mustard gas in World War II. He was rambling. Morgan waylaid him with, "Unless you have any relevant statistics, you need to stop this now and listen to me kid." He waited a moment to let Reid's look of frustration pass, and then said, "My mom used these on me when I got sick, and yeah, they're no fun. But I guarantee it will be over before you know it, and you will feel better a lot faster. I promise you won't get burned or blistered, and we'll be right here with you the entire time. Okay?"
Reid swallowed hard, but nodded his agreement to proceed.
Garcia, worried about the reduced heat in her poultice, quickly went to work applying it. She laid the cloth on his chest, covered it with another cloth and pulled the heavy blanket up to his neck.
Reid meekly let her work while he looked from one face in the room to the next gathering the confidence in this process from them that he lacked.
As soon as she finished she told Morgan to give him some of the electrolyte fluid. As she had pinned Reid's arms under the covers, he held the glass with a bendy straw up to his mouth. He took a sip, and found he enjoyed the flavor of the cool drink.
It was less than three minutes into the process that Reid began to feel the heat. Bravely, he accepted it without complaint. After five minutes, Hotch popped the thermometer in his mouth while Garcia inspected the skin underneath the poultice. His temperature had risen only .2 degrees and his skin was only slightly pink. She replaced the blankets, and the three healthy members of the team chatted while Reid listened and tried not to squirm out from under the increasing heat. He coughed violently a couple of times which had everyone in the room looking concernedly at him, but as it calmed down they went back to chatting.
Another five minutes passed and they checked his temperature and skin again. Still, there was no reason to worry. Reid, however, was not so certain. He couldn't believe his temperature had risen so very little. Something was definitely wrong with that thermometer. He was loathe to complain though and stoically tried to ignore the discomfort by listening to the banter of his three friends. It helped a bit that Morgan continued to provide him with the electrolytes.
He very nearly gave into his desire to throw the blankets off when Garcia announced it was time to check him again. All was well, so she said, "Okay kiddo, take your shirt off and turn over."
Not understanding, Reid looked at her in confusion.
"We need to put it on your back now." She explained.
He was too tired to fight any more. He sat up and removed his shirt while Garcia produced another cotton towel from what seemed an endless supply, and laid it on the bed to protect the sheets. He lay down on his stomach and let her do her thing. Again, every five minutes they checked to make sure he was not being damaged in any way.
Eight minutes in the discomfort was starting to get to him. Reid was starting to feel twitchy, angry, pouty and anxious all at once. When he moved his legs trying to find a cooler place for them, he was frustrated to not only not find a more comfortable spot but to also feel Morgan's hand firmly grip his calf.
"Almost done, kid. Try to relax."
"Morgan!" He wined, "I'm hot!" He was overcome by a coughing fit that worked to frustrate him even more. "Can't it be done now?"
"I know It's hard, Spencer," it was Hotch, "but if you can put up with it for just a few more minutes, I'm told you'll appreciate it tomorrow."
Reid tried to reaffirm his dedication to seeing this to the end.
Seeing how uncomfortable she had made her baby brother made Garcia squirm. She wanted nothing more than to throw the blankets off of him and tell him it was all over. Morgan saw this and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. She sadly smiled up at him. It would only be a few minutes more.
When it was all over, Garcia pulled the covers back, removed the poultice, and said, "There! All done! That wasn't so bad, was it?" She smiled down at the young man and was thanked with an angry glare.
Morgan saw this, and said, "That's enough of that, kid! I know it was uncomfortable, but you survived. Stop acting like a brat."
Reid licked his dry lips and lowered his eyes, but he still felt abused and wasn't ready to apologize yet.
Feeling bad about having caused him so much discomfort, Garcia said, "Well, you'll feel better in the morning, baby. I promise." She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the back of the head. "Morgan, will you get him cleaned up, please?"
The oven timer drew both she and Hotch out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, leaving Reid alone with a disappointed Morgan. "Kid, she didn't deserve that. You owe her an apology."
"I know," he whispered. Reid felt bad for hurting her like that when she was only trying to help him. "C-can I go down and talk to her?"
Smiling at his soft-hearted friend, Morgan said, "Not yet. We need to get you cleaned up first. If any of that stuff got on your skin, you will burn. Come on, let's get you into the shower." He helped Reid to stand and let the kid lean heavily on him while they walked into the bathroom. Seeing how difficult it was for Reid to stand, he changed his mind about the shower, and instead ran him a bubble bath.
After strongly insisting that he could manage the rest himself, Reid convinced Morgan to leave him alone. Morgan left the door open a crack just in case and then went to change Reid's bed sheets. He had every reason to believe the kid would start feeling a lot better much faster than the doctors ever predicted.
XOXOXOXO
My mom the witch doctor, she told me what to do! LOL (For those of you too young to remember, that's part of an old song. My family used to sing it to my mom whenever she pulled out one of her home remedies). If you ever want to try a mustard plaster, I URGE you to research it very carefully first. They can be very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing.
That being said, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and I look forward to hearing from you.