Prompt: Tweety Bird (courtesy of a friend at work).
The cold water on his face did little to refresh him. It did however make him feel a bit more awake, and Morgan figured that was something at least. He cupped his hands underneath the water once again, and then splashed some more water on his face. The federal agent reached for a towel to dry his face, and then grabbing the large plastic bowl with the washcloth still in it, he filled it with the cold water.
Morgan turned off the water and, then turning, headed back out into the bedroom. Reid was in the exact position he had been when he had left him a few minutes earlier. His friend was curled up in the fetal position, his head not even resting on one of the pillows. As a bout of dry heaves overcame him, Reid didn't move from his position.
~Which only goes to show how exhausted he is, ~ Morgan thought, crossing to the bed. He placed the bowl of water on the night stand and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Please, make it stop," Reid pleaded quietly.
"I wish I could, Pretty Boy," Morgan said softly, as he grabbed the wash cloth from the water. He wrung out the excess water and then pressed the cool cloth against his friend's forehead. "This is all going to end eventually."
"I just want it to end now," Reid managed to get out, before the words turned into a moan, and his body stiffened up.
Morgan glanced at the time on the alarm clock. Eric had been gone almost two hours now, having left to pick some things up. Right about now, Morgan wished he could will him to come through the front door. He was starting to think that this was a bad idea. That perhaps one of the other methods Eric had suggested would be the better way to go despite Reid's protests.
~If I go against his wishes though, will I ruin our friendship? ~ Morgan asked silently, despite Reid's current pleas to him to make things stop.
"I can't do this," Reid said, his voice not much more than a whimper. "Did you throw it all out?"
"Yeah, Kid, I did," Morgan said, the lie slipping out easily in this instance. He could tell Reid's will power was failing and if the younger man knew there was some of the drug in the apartment he might give in. He dipped the cloth in the water again, and wrung it out. "You don't need it. This will all end eventually," Morgan said quietly as he placed the cloth against Reid's face.
Morgan heard the sound of the front door opening and breathed a sigh of relief that Eric was back. It took a few minutes before the doctor entered the room. Morgan spoke before his friend had a chance to say anything.
"Is there anything you can do to ease his pain?" Morgan asked, hating seeing his friend suffering.
"I've got something that should help him some," Eric said, moving toward the side of the bed opposite of Morgan. He knelt down at the bedside. "Spencer, I need you to tell me how you're feeling right now. What hurts?"
"My back, abdomen and legs."
"A certain part of your legs?"
"Mostly the calves."
"Okay," Eric said, getting to his feet.
Without a word of explanation, the doctor left the room. Moments later he was walking back into the room, a couple of heating pads in his hands.
"The wraps I brought back with me are warming in the microwave now," Eric said. "I should have thought of this last night when I came here, though actually helping patients through the detox process is not something I usually do," he said, once again going to the opposite side of the bed from Morgan.
Eric placed the two heating pads on the chair he had been sitting in earlier and sat down on the edge of the bed. Taking the top heating pad, he placed it across Reid's lower back. With Morgan's help, the two coaxed and helped Reid out of the fetal position and onto his back. Eric placed the second heating pad across Reid's abdomen and then went for the other heating wraps he had placed in the microwave to warm up. Returning, the doctor soon had the wraps encircling Reid's lower legs.
"Did you get him to drink any water while I was gone?"
"Yeah, but he only kept it down for a few minutes."
"It's something. Even though he didn't keep it down long, the body would have been able to absorb some of it. We're just going to have to keep pushing the liquids even if he is having trouble keeping it down. I picked up some Gatorade while I was out, we'll try that later too, along with trying to get some Ensure in him."
"What if we can't get enough fluid into him. I know enough to know the body can go without food a lot longer than it can without water, and that dehydration is not a pleasant experience."
"Trust me. I won't let it get that far. If we can't keep him hydrated, we'll move him to the clinic so I can give him IV fluids. Trust me, Derek."
"I don't want to be taken to the clinic, hospital or any place," Reid protested, from where he was laying. He wanted to show more of a protest against the action, but he just felt weak, and the heat on his aching muscles was actually easing the pain.
"Reid, we're just talking possibilities. Don't worry about it. It may not come to it," Morgan told him.
"It's not an option. There would be too many questions. Too many people . . ."
"Spencer, listen to me," Eric said, leaning over the bed and trying to make eye contact with his patient. "I know you're worried about your friends. I know that you don't want them to get into any trouble over this. I understand that and will do my best to protect you all, but I also have to look out for your health. That's the most important thing to me."
"It doesn't matter . . ."
"Don't even finish that, Kid," Morgan said, interrupting Reid before he finished. He could hear the defeat in the younger man's voice, which was bad enough. Morgan knew he couldn't handle hearing him say that it didn't matter what happened to him. That it didn't matter if he died. Morgan reached down and took one of Reid's hands in his own. "It does matter. It matters to us. We almost lost you in Georgia. There is no way we're going to lose you now. You've got to keep fighting. We can get you through this."
"After everything I've done, I don't . . ."
"Forgiveness can be a wonderful thing, and this group we're with knows exactly what that word means. I found that out after that whole mess in Chicago. You were all there for me, despite what you found out about my past. Now, it's our turn to get you through this and what's happened. We'll all move past it, together. You trust me, don't you, Kid?"
"Yes."
"Then trust me when I say Eric and I are going to do what's best for you."
"I just don't . . ."
"Trust me, Kid," Morgan said, cutting off Reid's protests.
~Well so much for that, ~ Morgan thought, as he held the basin once again.
As Reid has been keeping down the water and the Gatorade, Morgan and Eric had coaxed him into drinking some of the Ensure. That hadn't worked, as Reid was now throwing it back up not even ten minutes later.
As the spell passed, Reid laid back down on the bed and once again curled into a ball. As Morgan moved to get up to empty the basin, he found Eric right there.
"I'll dump it. You look like you're about to be sick yourself."
"Thanks," Morgan said, gratefully. He was feeling a bit queasy. Dealing with people throwing up had never been his strong suit.
"Not a problem. After you've been puked on, rinsing out a basin is nothing."
Morgan groaned. "I didn't need elaboration on that," he told him.
As Eric headed for the bathroom, Morgan got to his feet. "I'm going to go warm up those heating pads again, Kid," he told his friend, giving Reid's shoulder a quick squeeze.
A half hour later, Reid had drifted off into a restless sleep.
"Derek, go lay down on the coach for a while, and try to get some sleep yourself," Eric said as he eased the now cool heating pad out from behind Reid's back.
Morgan shook his head. "I'm fine."
"You're exhausted. I don't think you've slept the whole time I've been here, and I get it. You want to be there for your friend, but he's resting right now. Try getting some rest yourself. I'll be here. If something happens, you're only a room away."
Morgan glanced down at Reid. He wasn't sure what his friend was experiencing but his face was anything but peaceful. The young man tossed his head back and forth every so often, even in his sleep.
"Making yourself sick isn't going to help anyone."
Morgan glanced up at Eric to see him gazing steadily at him. Morgan knew his friend was right and he couldn't deny he was tired.
"Go, before I end up with two patients," Eric told him.
"Okay," Morgan said, getting to his feet.
Leaving the bedroom, Morgan made his way out to the living room. He walked around the couch and laid down, grabbing one of the throw pillows to settle underneath his head. Though he had thought sleep would be elusive, it wasn't long before he was drifting off to sleep.
The next thing Morgan was aware of was a knocking at the door. He glanced at his watch which read five thirty. He didn't think Hotch would be back so close to the time they normally left the office. ~Well, the time most of us leave the office, ~ Morgan amended, as their unit chief rarely left the office on time.
Reaching the door, he looked into the peep hole. He sighed when he saw the two familiar faces waiting on the other side of the door. Slowly he opened the door part way, blocking entry to the apartment with his body.
"Hi," he said, looking first at JJ and then Garcia who was standing behind her. "I'm sorry but I can't let you in. He doesn't want visitors right now."
"We know. Hotch told us," Garcia replied. "How are you doing though?"
"I'm fine," Morgan told her.
"I brought your go-bag from the office," JJ said, holding out the black bag that Morgan took on cases with him. "I thought you might need a change of clothes and stuff, and gauging from the fact that you're still in the same clothes you wore to the office yesterday, I'd be right."
Morgan took the bag from her. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he told her sincerely.
"How is he?"
"It's been rough, JJ," Morgan replied, knowing he couldn't lie to her. "It shouldn't have gotten this far. I should have stepped in sooner."
JJ reached out and laid her hand on her teammate's arm. "Hey, we all missed the signs, not just you. Or maybe we were hoping it wasn't what we feared. This isn't your fault."
"She's right, Sugar," Garcia told him. "And you're helping him now. That's the important thing. You'll get him through this and we'll all have our Junior G-man back."
Morgan nodded. "Thanks. I needed that little pep talk."
"Yeah, well any time you need a repeat or either of you needs anything, just call. Anytime."
"I will. As soon as he's up to having visitors, I'll let you all know, too."
The two women nodded. Garcia held out the stuffed animal she was holding to Morgan, the balloons that he had noticed floating above her head moving too.
"Give this to Reid for me. I understand he doesn't want us to see him right now, but I had to let him know I'm thinking about him."
Morgan took the stuffed animal from her. It was a medium-size Tweety Bird, dressed in a leather jacket. Garcia had tied two get well balloons to one foot.
Morgan smiled. "I will, Baby Girl."
"We'll be going now," JJ told him. "Oh, I just to warn you, Prentiss will be stopping by later. She went home to make soup, which according to her is about the only thing she can make well. I think we just all want to feel like we're doing something."
"Well, we both appreciate it," Morgan told her. "I'll stay in touch."
As the two women headed down the hallway, Morgan pushed the door shut. Tweety bird and go-bag in hand, he headed for the bedroom. Eric was sitting in the chair at the bedside and he looked up from the medical journal he was reading as Morgan walked into the room.
"You look a bit better after your nap," Eric said, quietly his eyes following Morgan as he made his way to the bed.
"It helped," Morgan replied. "How's he doing?" he asked, as he placed the stuffed animal Garcia had dropped off on the night stand.
"About the same. He hasn't stayed asleep more than a half hour at a time, I don't know if it's the pain or the nightmares waking him up, maybe a bit of both."
"Nightmares?"
"Nightmares or flashbacks. Something is troubling his sleep. He's said some things in his sleep, and has woken up suddenly a few times. I've been able to calm him down fairly easily, though he won't talk to me about them. Perhaps he'll talk to you. Who was at the door?"
"Some co-workers."
"They drop off a change of clothes for you?" Eric questioned, a nod toward the bag that Morgan held.
"Yeah."
"Then why don't you go shower and change clothes."
"Yes doctor."
"Hey, you called me to help you out and that's what I'm doing. Besides, I'm the one who has got to smell you."
"Next you're going to be telling me to eat something."
"One thing at a time," Eric replied.
As Morgan headed into the bathroom, Eric turned his attention back to the medical journal. A few minutes later, a soft moan beside him caused him to look up again. Though Reid didn't have his eyes open again yet, the doctor knew he was coming around again and it wouldn't be long. Tossing the medical journal aside, he got to his feet to get the heating pads ready again and grab a cold bottle of Gatorade out of the refrigerator. He would do his best to deal with the physical effects of the withdrawal process, and he hoped that Morgan could make some headway with the emotional issues that were tormenting the young man.