Prompt: Another Deep Space 9 episode title - Battlelines
Hotch stepped into the bedroom behind Morgan and took stock of the situation. Reid was sitting up in the bed, his back against the head board. The genius was hugging a pillow closely to him, and his knees drawn up close. Hotch couldn't remember ever seeing Reid so pale and though his eyes were open, it was as if he wasn't really seeing anything in the room. The young genius had never looked so vulnerable or lost.
With a lot of restraint, Hotch kept himself from actually acting on his first impulse - which was to rush forward and gather the young man before him in his arms. Hold him close and try to soothe away the hurt like he remembered his mother doing for him when he was a kid. This wasn't about what he wanted though, this was about what Reid needed. Though Hotch had often felt a fatherly affection for his youngest agent, it was something he had never voiced. Something he tried to keep hidden, though as he worked with some of the best profilers in the business, he often wondered if he had been successful.
Hotch remembered his own words to Gideon back in Georgia.
"You know I always take advantage of Reid for his brain but I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."
Once again he was seeing the results of that. Once again he had let Reid try to deal with the emotional things on his own. Given everything that Reid had seen in his twenty-five years, it was no wonder, that it had finally come to this. A person could only take so much, and despite being the youngest Reid had probably had to deal with more than any one person on the team. The teasing from peers growing up, a father who walked out on him, a mother with schizophrenia, co-workers who had resented him getting the position with the team at such a young age, the horrors that came with the job, and then being held captive and tortured for over two days. To make matters worse, his eidetic memory didn't allow for those things to fade away into the past.
~If anyone ever had an excuse to turn to drugs, it's Reid, ~ Hotch thought as he moved past Morgan and sat down on the side of the bed, the bright splash of yellow from the stuffed Tweety on the night stand seeming out of place and letting Hotch know that Garcia had reached out to him in her own unique way.
Reid didn't make any movement, and the elder agent wondered if the young man had even noticed his entrance.
"Hey, Reid," Hotch said quietly and calmly, as he reached out a hand to touch Reid's forearm. The younger man flinched noticeably at the touch but did look in the older agent's direction.
Hotch wasn't sure what to say. Asking how he was doing seemed like such a stupid question. It was clear his subordinate wasn't doing well. The exhaustion, pain and fear were all very evident by just looking at him.
"Hotch?" Reid asked tentatively, his eyes finally focusing. "I saw Raphael shoot you."
The statement was so quiet, yet held so much conviction that it tore at Hotch's heart. It was clear in those few words that the nightmares seemed real for the younger man.
"It was a bad dream."
"It seemed so real."
"Well, it couldn't be, now could it? I'm right here and I'm absolutely fine," Hotch told him.
"I never should have chosen anyone. I shouldn't have let Raphael control me like that. It wasn't fair to put anyone else in danger but I didn't want to die. Not then. Not like that," Reid said, his voice wavering with emotion. "I'm so weak. I'm sorry."
"You've got nothing to be sorry about. You did what you needed to do to survive. I'm not going to hold that against you. No one would and nobody else was in danger. Reid, you gave us the clue we needed to find you. A weak person wouldn't have been able to do that."
Reid didn't respond as tears started to fall down his face and he hugged the pillow he was holding closer to himself, sinking his chin down into it, taking his gaze away from Hotch. Moving closer to the head of the bed, and the distraught young man, Hotch reached out to pull Reid into a hug. The genius resisted the gesture at first, keeping his body rigid and his knees drawn up close to him.
"Spencer, I'm proud of how you handled the situation. You kept your head about you in a situation that most people would have just given up in. We found you because you gave us the clues we needed," Hotch said softly, attempting to get the younger man to relax.
"I know you would never put yourself ahead of the team."
"I know. I don't hold you responsible for anything you said during the time that Hankle held you captive. You did what you needed to do to survive," Hotch told him, both hands now on Reid's shoulders, wanting to hug the young man tight but afraid to push too much. He wanted to be a comfort to the younger man, not break him further.
"I cost two people their lives and endangered yours," Reid replied.
"No, you didn't. You are not responsible for those deaths. There was nothing you could have done to stop Hankle. He killed those people, not you, and I was never in any danger."
"I want to believe that," Reid said, tears still streaming down his face.
"I'll repeat it as many times as I have to until you do believe it," Hotch told him. "You need to try to relax, Spencer. This isn't good for you and you're safe."
"I don't want to be alone."
"We're not going to leave you alone."
"I've felt so alone."
"I'm sorry that we made you feel like that."
"It's not your fault. I kept pushing you all away."
"We shouldn't have let you do that. We're not going to let you do so now, no matter what you do. Please, stop resisting us, Spencer. It's not showing weakness to seek comfort from people who care about you. It's human nature. Don't fight it."
Hotch's words finally broke through to him, causing Reid's resistance to crumble. Uncurling himself from the ball he was in, Reid suddenly fell into Hotch's embrace, resting his head on the older man's shoulders. Hotch wrapped his arms around Reid's smaller frame, holding him tight, the pillow crushed in between them.
Standing just inside the doorway, Morgan watched the scene in silence, hoping that Hotch's words were really getting through to their co-worker. That knowing that Hotch didn't hold him responsible would allow for Reid to start forgiving himself. The younger man had his eyes closed, but tears still ran steadily down his cheeks, stabbing at Morgan's heart. He hated seeing his friend in so much pain, and would do anything he could to alleviate it.
After a few moments of silence, Reid's voice finally broke it. The words were so soft that Morgan couldn't make them out from where he was standing. Still holding him tight, Hotch was able to though and it didn't take Hotch long to realize that the younger man was recounting his dream. He was telling it in such vivid detail that had Hotch not known better, he would have thought it was a true account.
~And if I feel that way, I can only imagine how real it seemed to him, ~ Hotch thought, as he listened to Reid's narrative. As much as hearing it bothered him though, the older agent did nothing to stop him. He knew Reid needed to get this out. Needed to share the nightmare so that he could move past it and start the healing process.
"There was blood everywhere and I knew you were dead," Reid said quietly, ending the tale.
"It was just a bad dream, Spencer. I'm right here and I'm very much alive," Hotch told the younger man softly.
"It seemed so real," Reid whispered.
"No what's real are my arms around you," Hotch told him quietly. "Focus on that. Let the nightmare go."
The two fell silent. As Reid didn't make any attempt to pull away, Hotch kept his arms around him, holding him as tightly as he dared. They knew where the battlelines were drawn now, but Hotch knew there was still a long fight ahead of them. A fight that they couldn't let Reid fight on his own no matter how much he attempted to do just that.
Suddenly, Hotch felt Reid go rigid in his arms, and he clung more desperately to him.
"Spencer, what is it?" Hotch asked, trying to sound calm despite the panic he felt.
"It hurts."
"What does?"
"My chest. It feels tight."
"Okay, just try staying calm. Slow easy breaths," Hotch said, even as he heard Morgan's retreating footsteps, and knew he was going for Eric. He felt Reid's fingers as the younger man clenched his shirt, as if he was drowning and was trying to keep himself above water. "It's going to be okay, Spencer," he said soothingly, as his hand started making circular motions on the younger man's back.
"Don't let go," Reid pleaded.
"I won't. I got you," Hotch told him, even as Eric hurried into the room, sitting on the bed opposite of Hotch.
Morgan and Hotch watched on silently as Eric took Reid's blood pressure again. Reid didn't stir from the sleep bought on by the mild sedative Eric had given him a half hour ago, when the genius' blood pressure and heartrate had been elevated too much for the doctor's liking.
"It's come down some in the last half hour," the doctor said, as he removed the ear pieces of the stethoscope from his ears. "The pulse is at a more reasonable rate, too."
"How long will the sedative last?" Hotch asked.
"Normally, two to three hours, however given what he's been through he may be out longer than that."
Hotch nodded and looked up at Morgan. "Why don't you go try to get some rest yourself," Hotch suggested, though both men knew it was more than just a suggestion.
Morgan shook his head. "Someone should be here when he wakes up."
"I agree and I will be."
"Shouldn't you head home?"
Hotch shook his head. "Given Reid's nightmare, I'm not leaving until he's awake and I can make sure he is aware of me leaving. I was here when he went to sleep, and waking up without me here might only alarm him again. Go get some rest. You look like you could use it."
Morgan nodded reluctantly. As much as he hated leaving, he knew Hotch was right. Turning, Morgan left the bedroom, leaving Hotch and Eric to continue the vigil.