Hi Friends!
I know it's been way longer than usual but I've been on an emotional roller coaster since my last update. I'm sorry to say that my family lost a dear member last week, my grandmother. We spent hours in the hospital and my mother and her sisters had to actually make the choice to unplug her from the machines. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through in my life. So needless to say, writing was not a priority for me.
I finally did get some motivation back and I've been writing this over the last few days. I was actually planning on ending the story with this chapter but I think I will squeak out one more to close it up nicely.
Thank you for all your support and reviews. You are the best readers a girl could ask for! Oh, and to my recent guest reviewer...I swear I don't hate you :) It was never my intention to keep you hanging this long.
Reid's doctor is inspired by my dearly departed Grandma...I tried my best to represent her Scottish accent (please forgive me if you find it difficult to read or inaccurate. I never tried to write a Scottish accent before).
All medical info was provided by Wikipedia and I tried to keep it as accurate as I could...but hey, I'm not a doctor.
Please forgive my mistakes.
Enjoy!
The atmosphere in the waiting room was thick with emotional turmoil. The group of profilers had been fretting for the last two hours without a single update on their resident genius. Luckily they were sequestered off in an intimate waiting room that they didn't have to share. The isolated space was welcome for it allowed them to agonize in private.
Agent Hotchner stood at the room's only connection to the outside world. His gaze was steadied on the clear starlit sky but his eyes saw none of it. His mind was lost in thought as he contemplated how many close calls one person can have over the course of their life. He was sure that Reid had cat blood running through his veins, and if he did the kid would have to be on life number seven or eight by now.
JJ and Garcia were huddled together and clutching each other's hand while they allowed their silent tears to cascade down their respective faces. The two women also had their heads together while they whispered comforting words back and forth to help appease each other's fears.
Derek Morgan was seated off in a corner hunched over his knees with his head cradled in his hands. He could be heard muttering to himself every once in a while but whatever he was saying was in a voice too low to discern.
Rossi, ever the calm one of the group, was making himself a cup of coffee courtesy of the ancient machine set up by the door. The only signal that the stress of the situation was getting to him was via the vigorous way he stirred his hot beverage with the miniature red straw.
The elder agent turned had just finished swirling the stick when he heard the swishing of bootie-clad feet outside the door.
"Heads-up guys!" he called out as a doctor dressed in putrid green scrubs entered the room.
"Agents," the woman said with a thick Scottish accent as she closed the door behind her back.
Garcia took a sharp intake of breath at the doctor's stark tone. She grasped JJ's hand harder, anticipating bad news based on the woman's demeanor.
"Am Margaret Wooton, Spencer Reid's doctor, and Ah was told by the nurses that yer all are cleared ta hear his medical information."
"Yes, that's correct," Hotch said formally.
Her icy blue eyes flitted over the mismatched group before she nodded her head and looked down at the chart. Garica, who couldn't take the suspense any longer blurted out, "Please, just tell us if he's okay."
The surgeon looked up from her papers in surprise. The steely glint soften at the blonde's desperate plea, "Oh dear…Am sorry…Ah tend ta allow the adrenaline from surgery linger on me a wee bit after Am done." She allowed a small smile grace her lips as she made eye contact with each of the profilers, "Am happy ta say that Spencer is going ta be fine."
The mood of the room shifted dramatically at the joyous news and each of the agents seemed to release the tension that they had been tautly reigning throughout their muscles.
"Ah know that his situation looked dire when ye last saw him but that was due ta the fact that his heart had slowed down in response ta the cold water." Garcia gasped again, causing the doctor to pause. "No ta worry, that reaction actually helped save the lad's life. Yer see, when the heart rate slows it pushes yer body inta an energy saving mode which allows ye ta stay underwater without air for longer. Am guessing that Spencer was underwater for a wee bit of time before he was rescued. He wasn't deprived of oxygen for too long and Ah dinnae anticipate any brain damage."
There seemed to be a collective sigh released from the agents and the doctor smiled softly once again. "I dae hae one area of concern though...it appears that when Spencer did finally allow the water in he took some inta his lungs. It usually happens after one falls unconscious and involuntarily relaxes their larynx. This is a very dangerous side effect of drowning and can lead ta pulmonary edema," she explained gravely.
"What's that?" Garcia asked, knowing that she wasn't the only profiler in the room unfamiliar with Reid's potential diagnosis.
"It's when water gets inta the lungs and hinders their ability to exchange gasses. Now if that does occur it could push him inta respiratory distress, cause him ta hae a heart attack, or die." Dr. Wooton saw the glint of fear enter the profilers' eyes and was quick to reassure them. She held up her hand and said, "Dinnae go jumping to conclusions. Ah didnae say that this was guaranteed to happen. It's something that could possibly develop over the next seventy-two hours and with that being said we will be keeping the lad here for the next three days ta monitor his condition."
JJ was quick to ask, "In your opinion, what do you think his chances are of developing it?"
"Ah would say low. He didnae allow very much water inta his lungs due ta your speedy rescue and we've already treated what would hae been its underlying cause. Other than that we are going ta give him supplementary oxygen his whole time here and we will keep checking his vitals. If after three days there are no signs of distress he'll be free ta go."
"Thank you for the update," Hotch said gratefully.
"Of course," she said while she wrote a comment on Reid's chart. "Oh, but ah forgot ta mention that Spencer will look a wee worse for the wear when ye see him. The poor lad is riddled with stitches. His wrists and ankles were torn from whatever was binding them, he has a head wound due ta some sort of blunt object, and there were some deep gouges on his neck. It will be a little shocking ta see all the bandages and his face is a little swollen but it will all heal in time. There will be scarring but it should be minimal."
"When can we see him?" Morgan asked in a tone that was slightly dismayed by the fact that Reid would have another mark marring his delicate skin. The kid really didn't need any more reminders of all the shitty things that had happened to him throughout his life.
"Right now he's in recovery and then he'll be moved ta his room. Ah'll hae one of the nurses come down and get you when he's ready for visitors. If you hae any other questions don't hesitate ta call me or ask one of the nurses," she said before she handed Hotch one of her cards and shook everyone's hand.
Dr. Wooton walked out the door and left the group of friends alone to digest the good news.
Reid woke up with a big gasp. He flung his arms out in an effort to grab something solid and clutched the plastic barriers around his bed. His chest heaved as he struggled to regulate his breathing and convince his mind that he was not being deprived of oxygen.
Wait…he was in a bed?
His eyes adjusted to the dim light as he took in his stark surroundings. He saw the monitors that were positioned at the head of his bed, the chart on the wall that had all of his medical information, and the stiff mattress that was propping up his body.
He was in a hospital.
Confusion reigned in his brain as he struggled to remember how he had gotten there. The last thing he could vividly recall was the cold water breaking against his face as one last unforgiving wave covered his head and cut off his air supply.
He drowned. He was sure of it. Even now he could feel a residual ache in his chest from when his lungs agonizingly screamed for oxygen.
His limber fingers flew up to his face and traced the outline of his lips in disbelief. How?
A flash of white caught the genius's eye and he brought his hands back down to get a better look at them. He wasn't surprised to find his wrists wrapped up in white gauze with small flecks of red pushing through the fabric. Curiosity got the best of him and he started to unwind the fabric covering his right wrist, revealing the damage hidden beneath. When he finally tore away the last layer he found over twenty stitches knitting together his flesh where the leather strips had deeply ripped it apart.
There was no doubt about it, he was going scar.
He didn't bother to undo his left wrist knowing that he would find a mirror image of his right. Instead, Reid let the remnants of the bandage fall from his hand dejectedly.
"Just what I need…more marks disfiguring my body…," he murmured miserably.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and cradled his head in his hands on top of them. He felt something pull at his face and realized that he was hooked up to an oxygen cannula. His hand quickly clambered up to his nose and removed the annoying device.
How?
How did he survive?
How did he get to the hospital?
A sudden cough rattled through his chest causing him to gasp for air. Pain seemed to emanate out from his ribs causing him to wrap his arms around his body in a self-hug.
He clenched his eyes shut and allowed a flash of a memory to come forth through the pain.
There above him hovered Morgan's panicked face. He saw the other agent's lips moving and could faintly hear him encouraging the genius to keep his eyes open.
The team must have saved him. But where were they now?
He pulled his head up from his lap and allowed his big brown eyes gaze around the room again. He was deeply disappointed when he saw no signs of his teammates anywhere in the room.
There were no empty coffee cups, no cutesy figurines set out to cheer him up, no discarded newspapers that had been perused countless times, and no friends.
Did they save him just to leave him?
Were they finally fed up with his propensity to find trouble wherever he went?
This was probably the last straw for his team. Landing in the hospital three times in one year was a little much for anyone…even though one of the incidents was only due to being nailed in the face by that rabies obsessed Cunningham guy. Though if he added together this year's injuries with all of the ones he had accumulated throughout his career it wasn't hard to imagine the people he worked with being sick of his ability to end up in a hospital.
So they saved him and left him. Did he blame them?
No.
No…he didn't fault them for finally giving up on him.
But he was upset that they lied to him. Glints of memories flitted through his mind, all their promises not to abandon him, all their pledges to be there for him. They were all lies.
A sob escaped his lips as he internally berated himself for being so gullible. He should have known that the one time that he had finally let down his guard and actually believed the kind words and caring tones that it would come back to bite him in the ass.
He could feel tears tracking down his cheeks as a feeling of emptiness enveloped his soul. He had never felt so alone in the universe as he did right then.
The morose man lowered his head back down to his knees and tried to make himself as small as he felt.
An hour after Dr. Wooton left them a nurse came informed the team that they could see Reid.
"Should we all go at once?" JJ asked after the nurse left.
"Well I don't know about you guys but I've made it my tradition to be there when he wakes up…oh…wait…does that sound bad? He probably wouldn't like knowing that I have a standing date with him and his hospital beds," Garcia rambled.
"Don't worry about it Mama. I think Pretty Boy appreciates seeing you there every time he wakes up," Derek consoled her as he placed his arm around her shoulders.
"You really think so?"
"Of course I do."
"Yeah, kitten. Didn't you see the way he acted when you were with him in Texas? You are a comfort to him; you set him at ease. If anyone goes into that room first it should be you," Rossi added with a warm smile.
"Why don't we all go in initially? If it seems to be getting to be too much for him some of us can leave," Hotch suggested, wanting to make sure his youngest profiler really was with his own eyes.
The other nodded their heads or murmured their agreement to Hotch's suggestion. As a unified group they walked down the hospital corridor until they reached room 215.
Aaron was the first to approach the opened door. He was just about to enter when he raised his hand and stopped the others. The stern man held a finger up to his lips and jerked his head toward the interior of the darkened room.
The friends stopped as instructed and craned their heads forward, listening to what sounded like small cries and sniffles coming from inside.
Garcia scrunched up her face and looked up to Morgan with concern etched on her features. The darker agent shrugged his shoulders and took a step forward. "Is that Reid?" he mouthed to Hotch.
The other man nodded silently.
Derek didn't wait for Hotch to step out of his way and instead elected to brush past his superior on his way into the room.
"Pretty Boy? You're awake?" Morgan called out as he stepped through the door and around the wall that screened the injured agent's bed from the hallway.
He heard a big sniff and saw Reid wipe his bare arm along his face in order to get rid of the evidence of his tears.
"Uh yeah…I woke up a few minutes ago," came the genius's subdued voice from behind his knees.
"Are you alright?" Morgan asked as he stepped closer to his friend's bed. Behind him he could hear the shuffling of his teammates' feet as they softly entered the room.
Reid slowly lowered his legs and reclined back onto the raised head of his bed. For a brief second Morgan thought he saw what looked like despair swathe his buddy's features but the boy quickly covered it up with a nonchalant veneer.
"Yeah…I…I was just trying to get my bearings. I didn't…didn't expect to wake up. Uh…I mean…," Reid trailed off, unable to find a suitable excuse to replace his inadvertent admission.
The young profiler's slip didn't escape anyone's notice. They also didn't fail to spot how uncomfortable he seemed to be in their presence. Their lovable genius's eyes refused to meet theirs, his fingers were fluttering nervously in his lap, and his body seemed as stiff as a board.
Garcia, who hated seeing her youngest family member in emotional agony, skittered over to his side in a flash. She didn't even give Reid time to think before she leaned over the bed rail and wrapped him into a big hug. "You have got to stop scaring us like that."
Hotch, who was standing a few feet behind Morgan, observed how Reid accepted the hug but failed to reciprocate it. The boy just let his arms hang limply down at his sides and steadied his gaze on the wall in an effort to keep his face void of emotion. Out of the corner of his eye he saw JJ begin to make her way up to the bed to join Garcia but the unit chief laid his hand on her shoulder to stop her. His gesture earned him a confused look from the blonde and he held up his finger in a silent signal for her to wait.
Moments later Garcia broke her ill-received hug and stepped back, worried at the empty look in Reid's eyes. "Sweetie…what's wrong?" she asked gently.
Wordlessly, Spencer clamped his eyelids down and gritted his teeth. He could feel a whirlwind of emotions swirl through his head at Penelope's seemingly heartfelt question.
He really wanted to believe that his team was there because they were genuinely concerned about his well-being, but he was hesitant to accept what was right in front of his face. Instead, the feelings of emptiness that assaulted him when he woke up were still hovering on the surface of his mind reminding him that when it mattered most he had been alone.
The desolation he felt earlier won out over his longing to trust his team and as a result he shoved his emotions deep down into the recesses of his mind.
"Nothing," the genius said with a sigh. "I'm just worn out and sore."
"Nice try kiddo, but we're not going to buy that," Rossi boomed as he stepped to the foot of Reid's bed.
The boy's child-like face looked up at the grizzled Italian and he shrugged, "I'm not sure what you want from me then…"
"We want the truth," Rossi said simply.
"I already – "
"No kiddo, you didn't. You're holding back again."
"I'm not holding back. I'm just…I'm just trying to give you guys an easy way out," Reid gritted out in frustration.
"An easy way out?" JJ echoed from spot next to Hotch.
Water began welling in Reid's eyes as he felt some of his fragile resolve break. "Yeah…I know that…that you guys have got to be...tired of rescuing me all the time. Tired of worrying about whether I'll live or die. Tired of having to wait by my bedside after I do something stupid. So, I'm letting you know that I'll be alright and you guys are free to go take care of your families…so…go."
The room was silent as the agents absorbed the hidden meaning behind Reid's words.
Having heard enough of the genius's misguided thoughts, Hotch stepped forth and said the one thing the all were thinking, "Reid, you are a part of all of our families."