PART 3.

Derek had been walking determinedly, dragging his feet and his unconscious colleague on the improvised wooden frame for hours. He was so fatigued that he lost track of time and now he was starting to get cramps in his legs. He stopped feeling pain in his arms and back a long time ago. Now, they were just numb.

He was so focused on keep walking, that he didn't identify the faint noise of a rotor humming somewhere in the distance.

(We are going to get out of here. We have to get out of here. We are going to get out of here…)

His mind kept repeating the same phrases, over and over, like a mantra that seemed endless.

His sight was fixed in the small patch of light created ahead of him by the torch he was carrying. Walking almost blindly, he didn't see a rock protruding from the soil right in front of him. He tripped over it and fell crashing on the ground, hurting badly his right shin, with a yell. The stretcher fell on top of him and almost rolled over, throwing Reid to the sand, next to him.

One of the two paramedics who made up the crew of the helicopter along with Nicholls, leant toward the window of the aircraft with eyes wide open, trying to see better into the blackness.

"Captain… I think I saw something, a small flash of light at 9 o'clock…" He said, into the microphone of his radio equipment.

The pilot tried to look in that direction, but couldn't see a thing. "Is it still there?"

The man blinked a couple of times, staring doubtfully at the same spot.

"No… not anymore, I think."

For a moment, Morgan couldn't even breathe. He was laying prone, with his face partially buried in the dust. His leg had a deep bleeding gash and his whole body was throbbing with ache.

(I need… to move…) He thought, even if he believed it was easier said than done. He used his last energy to turn and sit up. With a sigh, he grabbed his cell phone from his belt. His hands were trembling uncontrollably because of the effort of carrying his friend for a long time.

He found out that it was near midnight. They had been stranded in the desert for almost eight hours, but at the moment, that was what mattered less. He felt a lump in his throat when he saw the 'No service' sign, yet again.

With clumsy fingers, he dialed 911… just to find out that there was still no answer.

"Damn…" He whispered and tossed the phone on the sand. Then, he took the rucksack off his back and didn't even bother to try to drink water. He threw it next to the phone and allowed himself to fall on the ground, ready to die then and there.

At least, he would spend the last moments of his life staring at the beautiful sky.

(Spencer… You saved my life… and now I can't save yours… Forgive me.) He thought, completely shattered.

Then, he saw that white glare in the sky, close to the horizon.

In the beginning he thought it was just a shooting star
(There you go, kid. Make your wish…),
but when he finally registered the noise approaching with it, he understood there was still a chance to survive.

An adrenaline rush invaded his system and he sat up again, eyes wide open. He held his breath, remaining perfectly still, as if to make sure what he was seeing and hearing was genuine and not a trick of his fatigued mind.

Tears filled his eyes when he found out the vehicle flying a few miles away was real.

"Oh my God… Reid, there's a chopper!" He yelled, with excitement, his pain and tiredness forgotten for a moment. "A chopper! Hold on, pretty boy! You're not dying here, I swear! Hold on!"

He stood up with difficulty and raised his arms with the torch above his head, shaking them. With desperation and fear that the people in the helicopter would not see him, he started to jump, again and again, not caring about the overwhelming aching on his injured leg.

"HELP!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, in the middle of the dirt road, not realizing that it was impossible to hear him from that distance. "Help, please! HELP!"

The paramedic saw the flash for a second time. It was certainly dim, but it was there and shaking constantly; unmistakable sign of human activity.

"There it is again!" He almost shouted into his microphone. "There's someone down there, at nine o'clock! I'm sure!"

"Roger!" Nicholls said.

The helicopter turned softly to the west, in the direction of the sighting. Under the beam of the vehicle, the crew soon could see the shape of a muscly dark skinned man with shaven head standing in the middle of nowhere, shaking a flashlight desperately in his hand. When the reflector dazzled him, that man protected his eyes with his arm.

"That seems to be Agent Morgan." Nicholls said, with relief, but the sensation was short-lived when he saw the blood on his shin. "He's injured… Where's Agent Reid?"

The helicopter made another turn. Then, they could see the improvised stretcher and the unmoving young man, hanging partially from the side of the wooden frame.

"It seems that Agent Hotchner was right." Nicholls said. "We need to land. These guys got in big trouble…"

"Reid! They saw us!" Morgan screamed, limping as fast as he could to his friend's side and kneeling next to him. "They saw us… we will be out of this hell soon… Please hold on… hold on…"

The vehicle landed in a clearing some yards away, with a thunderous noise and a huge gust of wind, dust and twigs flying everywhere around them. Derek protected his colleague from the debris with his body.

Two men carrying a real stretcher, medical supplies and flashlights got out of the helicopter and came close to the distressed pair quickly.

"Agent Morgan, I am Captain Joshua Nicholls, with the Arizona DPS!" One of them said, above the noise of the rotor. "This is paramedic Adam Carter! Agent Hotchner sent us!"

"Thank God, thank God you're here!"

Derek sighed and stared at his injured colleague.

(My friend… you were right… again. You knew Hotch was going to find us… I should've had more faith in the team… I should've had more faith in you…)

"You're bleeding!" Nicholls said, approaching Morgan, but he refused his help, with a gesture of his hands.

"Don't worry about me! I'm fine! Please help Reid!" He shouted. "There was an accident with the car! His right collarbone is broken! Then he was bitten by a rattlesnake on his left foot! A diamondback! He's been delirious! That was ages ago!"

"What? A fracture and then a snakebite? How did it happen?"

"He did it for me! He pushed me away! He jumped in front of the snake to stop it from biting me! He saved my life! You have to hurry! Please!"

Hardly believing the bizarre nature of Reid's injuries, Nicholls looked up at the younger man who was already being assessed by the other paramedic. He could see the area of the bite on his foot, very swollen and bruised around a red dressing that had been white once.

"Are you sure it was a diamondback?" He asked.

"Of course! Reid told me! He knows!"

"Ok!" Nicholls took two big pieces of sterile gauze from his orange plastic suitcase and placed them on top of Derek's injury. "Can you apply pressure on your wound for me, for a while?"

Morgan nodded.

"Do you know at what time the bite occurred, by any chance?" The pilot asked.

"Yes! It was shortly after 5 pm! I saw the time on his watch when I took it from him, just a few minutes after it happened!"

"Right. Thank you."

"Please… you have to save him."

"We will do everything we can, Agent Morgan. Now, try not to worry. I'll be back to you. Keep applying pressure to your wound. It won't be long."

Derek moved away from his friend, to allow the rescuers to treat him. Now, he only had to hope that his efforts to save him were enough, for Reid… and for himself.

In the next few moments, he could see how the captain said something to the paramedic and then Spencer was carried quickly onto the orange plastic stretcher and into the aircraft.

After that, Morgan started to find everything around him weird and confusing. He didn't know how he got into the helicopter, or if he fell asleep with exhaustion, or simply passed out, even before take-off.

Spencer had been floating in that gray nothingness for a long, long time. None of his nightmares seemed capable of reaching him there and he felt like he could happily stay in that place forever. It was quite comfortable and warm, far away from the memories, the fear and the pain.

He didn't know for how long he had been there, when all of a sudden, he felt something tugging persistently at his left leg. He didn't have the energy or the will to try and find out what it was, so he just hoped in silence for it to go away. It didn't. Instead, the nuisance was soon joined by an odd, artificial smell, which made his nostrils feel dry, cold and itchy.

In the beginning it was just annoying, but after a while the whole thing started to be really uncomfortable, even painful, impossible to ignore.

Gradually and inadvertently, he was dragged back to reality, where there also was the rhythmic beeping noise of a machine, somewhere by his left side. Through his heavily closed eyelids, he perceived a luminosity very different from the gloom where he was before.

At last, he decided to move away from whatever it was bothering him. That attempt brought a sudden spasm of pain to his right shoulder and he felt that his arm's movement was restricted. He squirmed slightly, this time bringing a much stronger aching to his left foot.

"Mmmhhh…"

"Reid?"

Spencer heard the somehow irregular steps of the owner of that very familiar voice, coming near him. He fought for a while to open his eyes, frowning a little. Then, he could feel a gentle and reassuring touch on his left wrist.

"Come on kid, wake up. I know you can."

After a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes opened sluggishly, to find four cold white walls and one little warm smile from his best friend and colleague.

"M… Morgan?"

"Finally." Derek sighed contentedly and his smile grew wider. At least this time his friend did not mistake him for someone else. "I was getting tired of waiting, you know? Welcome back."

Reid blinked a few times and slowly turned his head around, confused by the unknown surroundings. There were machines and plastic tubes connected to him in almost every imaginable way.

"A hospital? W-why are we here? What…?"

"You're safe now and in one piece. We did it. We survived the desert."

"The… desert?" For a few seconds Spencer didn't seem to know what his friend was talking about, but suddenly everything fell back into place. His eyes opened wide, with recognition and a hint of concern. Now there was an explanation for all of his discomforts. He shuddered. "Now I remember…"

"Don´t worry about what happened. What matters now is that you're awake at last. It's time to let Dr. Fernandez know." The older man said, at the same time he found the nurse call button at the side of the bed and pressed it. "She's been taking care of you since we arrived. She's great, you'll see."

Derek took a couple of steps back and Spencer realized his friend had a slight limp. He was going to ask what happened to him, but he was silenced by the physician's arrival.

She was a short and thin woman in her early thirties, with cinnamon skin, long black hair combed in a ponytail and dark brown eyes. She was wearing blue scrubs, pink sport shoes, a badge and a stethoscope around the neck.

"Good morning, Agent Morgan. I see the reason for your call." She said, with a grin and a latin accent that reminded Spencer of Elle. "Dr. Reid, I'm glad you're awake. My name is Dr. Elena Fernandez and I'm in charge of your care."

Reid smiled shyly and waved, making noise when the IV line he had attached to the crook of his left arm knocked the side of the bed.

"How do you feel?" She asked, moving toward him.

"I'm… not sure… I have pain in my leg and my shoulder."

"I have to say, your situation was quite unusual and challenging." She said. "Not every day we get a patient who has had both a fracture and a snakebite. Pain is absolutely normal after what you've been through. We're using acetaminophen to ease it, but we can give you morphine, if you think it's too much."

"No! No… It is strong, but not as much as before. I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" She frowned.

"Yes."

"Surely you have your reasons to not want morphine. We will respect that, as long as it doesn't affect your overall condition. For the moment, I will increase your dose of acetaminophen, however, if discomfort becomes too strong, or disturbs your recovery in any way, we will definitely use narcotics to stop it. Pain can be very harmful by itself."

Spencer nodded and sighed.

"Do you have any other symptom, like faintness, shortness of breath, nausea, or anything else out of the ordinary?" She asked.

"Not at the moment. Only the pain."

"All right." The physician said, at the same time starting to check all the patient's vitals on the machines around him and writing everything on a chart. "Dr. Reid, Agent Morgan told me what you did. I believe you're courageous, admirable… and a very lucky person."

"Lucky?" Morgan could not help but to exhale a chuckle behind her.

"Yes." She said, this time placing her hand on her patient's forearm, her dark eyes fixed on his. He found that touch warm and comforting and leaned softly into it. "As you surely know, the snake that bit you… can be deadly. At the very least, you could've developed compartment syndrome due to the hemotoxic nature of the venom, or have many other complications, which could lead to loss of the limb and other lifelong consequences. However, your envenomation was not as severe as we thought in the beginning. Rattlesnakes can control the quantity of venom they use. It also may vary depending on time of day, how hot it is outside, the type of prey they're feeding on and seasonally throughout the year. There are changes all the time. Perhaps this one didn't want to use it all in you, or it was used previously and the animal didn't have time to regenerate it… That is something we will never know. The fact is you had a grade 2 envenomation, which we categorize as moderate."

Reid looked down.

"M-moderate…? I thought I was going to die, I was so scared… I should've known better."

The woman sighed and dared to stroke the side of his face, making him look at her again.

"Spencer, I was told that you have a vast amount of knowledge… but there's a big difference between knowing something and experiencing it. A grade 2 envenomation isn't a walk in the park, so please don't reproach yourself."

Reid made a thin line with his lips, like he did every time he was nervous.

"It's not a crime to be scared, kid." Derek said and shivered. "I was paralyzed when I saw that damned snake. I still can't understand why or how you did what you did… It was the bravest thing I've ever seen. I'll never forget it… and I'll be grateful for that forever."

"I'm grateful for everything you have done for me, Morgan. You're my best friend."

Smiling, Derek raised his hand in the universal 'thumbs up' sign, which Reid responded weakly, but happily.

"Well, I'm truly glad we were able to help." Elena said. "Spencer, as I told you before, your case was… complicated, taking your other injuries into consideration. At the beginning, your symptoms were strange and unpredictable, showing things that shouldn't be there and covering up other important signs. Only an array of blood tests and close observation at the ICU told us the truth and allowed us to proceed. We had to act fast, due to the time elapsed between the bite and your admission to hospital, but we also had to be cautious. Animal medications such as vaccines and antivenins can cause allergies and in some cases, even anaphylaxis. There are always risks. It all depends on the patient's strength. Within two hours of your arrival, we administered an initial six vials dose of Polyvalent Crotalid Antivenin. I'm pleased to say the improvement at that moment was remarkable. In the next three days, six more vials were given in subsequent doses, to neutralize completely the toxins in your body."

"Three days…?" Reid said, surprised. "I… I don't have any recollection of that…"

"You spent most of the time unconscious. It's normal for many people not to recall their experiences at Intensive Care, so don't worry."

"But… the interview… the case… Morgan, what happened?"

"Man, you're the only person I know that will worry about his job in his hospital bed." Derek said, shaking his head. "I will tell you this so you don't have to think about it anymore. Prentiss and Rossi made the interview. The 'unsub' is behind bars and the last victim was saved. We were all worried about you and waiting for you to wake up. In fact, the rest of the team should be here at any minute, except for Garcia and JJ, but they've been calling every day. I'm sure they will be very happy when we let them know you're better."

"I can't wait to go home and see them."

"I hate to say, but you'll have to wait at least until the weekend to leave the hospital." Elena said then. "We need you to be under observation, to rule out the recurrence of a coagulopathy, or any other complication. It's our policy for snakebite management, plus, there's still that collarbone fracture. Agent Morgan did an excellent job immobilizing it and you didn't require surgery, however, you also got bruising in your ribs and sternum. It will take a few weeks and physiotherapy for you to recover completely. In the meantime, you'll have to use the sling and I'm afraid you'll be confined to a wheelchair for some days."

"Oh…" Reid whispered, disheartened. If there was something he hated, was to feel useless. He was used to help, not to be helped.

"There's something else you have to know." The physician went on, with a serious expression on her face. "Because the venom is absorbed by the body's lymphatic system, it may continue to cause pain and swelling to the limb for some weeks. Of course, in that case, we can manage it with the same painkillers you're getting now. Also, some damage to your skin, at the bite site, was unavoidable. It will not affect the movement of your ankle, but you will be left with some scarring."

The young man held his breath for a few seconds, biting his lower lip.

"I'm alive." He said exhaling, finally.

Elena paused, this time looking at Derek and then again at Reid, like doubting what she was going to say.

"Spencer… the symptoms described by Agent Morgan during your time at the desert and those you showed in the ICU, were extremely erratic. Some of them seemed to have nothing to do with any of your injuries. As I had already said, that was what made our diagnosis difficult, in the first place. I know your line of work is one of the most stressful and dangerous around… I'm not a psychologist, but I can clearly see there's something bothering you. You should talk about it. The mind is a powerful thing and, sometimes, keeping things for ourselves can really damage our health. You don't even need a professional to listen. Most of the times, a good friend will do."

Reid looked away, trying not to show the surprise caused by the young doctor to be able to read him so easily.

"I have problems, like everyone else. I'm not bloody crazy." He said, dryly, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. "Dr. Fernandez, I'm sorry … I don't know where that came from…"

"Don't worry." She smiled sweetly. "I understand how frustrating it is to be in a situation like yours. Far away from home, injured and in pain. I can only say that it will not last forever. In less time than you imagine, you'll be fine and chasing bad guys again."

"Actually, Morgan is the 'door-kicking' one." Reid said with the tiniest of the smiles. "I do the mental job."

"I want to think he'll refrain of kicking doors for a while." She said, giving a meaningful look at Derek. "Now, it's time for me to leave. Your new prescription and a light meal will be here soon. I bet you're hungry."

He thought about it for a few seconds.

"Yes, yes… you're right. In fact, I'd love a cup of coffee with plenty of sugar."

Elena laughed.

"Unfortunately, we'll have to skip coffee for a few days, but you can have all the orange juice that you want. See you soon. Anything you need, just call."

"I will. Thank you."

With that, she left. Spencer sighed deeply and tried to sit up on the bed, but a sharp pain in his shoulder and his general weakness stopped him.

"Hey, kid, let me help you." Derek said and approached, to raise the top of the bed slightly and put some pillows behind his back. It was agonizing, but Reid didn't complain.

"Are you sure you're all right?" The older agent asked. Then, he poured some water in a plastic cup with a straw, and offered it to his colleague, who accepted gladly a few sips.

"Yes Morgan. It only hurts badly when I move. I feel good. Now, are you going to tell me why are you limping?"

Derek smiled.

"When we were back at the desert, I had a little accident. Fell on top of a rock and wounded my leg. It's just a small scratch."

"How many stitches?"

"Thirteen."

"I can't leave you alone for two seconds." Spencer affirmed, rolling his eyes at him. "That reminds me… how did we get here? Everything is a blur in my mind… Did I… did I faint?"

"You did a lot more than that." Derek said, pulling the plastic chair where he had been before, to place it closer to the bed, and sat there. "You had a nasty fever and a constant bleeding. Honestly, I thought you were not going to survive… I could not abandon you there like that, so I carried you for a few miles, but in the end, you were right. Hotch sent someone to rescue us."

"I knew he was going to find us." Spencer murmured, almost to himself, staring somewhere in front of him. This was yet another proof that he could trust Aaron Hotchner with his life.

"I'm sorry." Morgan said, sighing. "I was arrogant and stupid. Thinking I knew it all, I did everything wrong. I put you through a hell no one deserves. Please, forgive me."

"I told you before. It was an accident. It could happen to anyone." Reid said, this time staring straight into the eyes of his friend. "And what I did, I chose to do it all by myself. I would do it again if I had to. I know you'd do the same for me. So please, don't ever, ever blame yourself. I trust you as much as I trust Hotch, or anyone in the team."

Derek didn't say anything. He was just thankful because, even after all the mistakes he made, his colleague was alive and he still had his friendship.

He was thinking about that, when Spencer broke the silence in a way the older agent never expected.

"It was Sunday afternoon when my father abandoned us."

Derek frowned at the sudden change of subject, but didn't say a word. Reid was not the type of person that opened his feelings or his story to someone easily. This had to be really hard for him, another sign of his courage.

"I remember as if it happened yesterday…" Spencer whispered and started to fidget unconsciously with one of the straps of his sling, looking away. "Every single gesture… every word he said to my mother that day. They were sharp as knives. She cried for hours after he left. From the moment I saw that, I thought… I hoped never to see him again."

Reid lowered his face and ran his hand through his hair.

"To find him, standing there, looking at me after seventeen years as if nothing had happened... it just… messed up everything. I haven't been able to sleep properly ever since. It had been seventy four days… Seventy four days… And every night… every night I had the same nightmare… sometimes even twice. I dreamed of him standing by the door of my childhood bedroom, in silence. I could see the bitterness in his face… I could feel his disappointment… his disdain… his anger… that made me believe he left us because of me…"

"Reid…"

"I know! I know it's wrong and… pathetic… but I can't help it. In my dream, every time, I asked… I begged him to stay and I cried… Every time, he left. He slammed the door behind him, waking me up in tears… except for the last time."

Spencer stared at his friend again frowning faintly, like trying to force his brain to recall something.

"I don't know exactly when it happened." He said then. "I'm still confused about what we lived out in the desert, but there's something I do remember. At some stage, I had that nightmare again… Only this time it was different."

Derek cleared his throat. He knew that dream better than he would have ever wanted.

"It's frankly ridiculous." Reid continued, shaking his head a little and his voice trembled as he closed his eyes. "I… I crave so much for the appreciation of this man, that I even dreamed about him saying that he was going to stay and that he loved me… It's so puerile… but logical, considering I had a fever."

Spencer sobbed softly. He couldn't help but shed some tears.

Morgan remained silent, looking away for a few moments, trying to give some space to his friend. It was better to let him spit it all out now, to blow off steam, before it could hurt him even more.

"Thinking about it…" Reid said after a while, wiping his face furiously and accidentally knocking down the oxygen cannula from under his nose. "I can't recall a sole happy moment with my own father. The only thing I have, is a single 'daddy loves you' after a fight he had with my mother. I think Riley's dad did much more for me than him… And what did I do? Put him in jail for killing the man that was going to kill me when I was four…"

"Now I will be the one asking for you to not blame yourself, Spencer." Derek said, helping his friend to put back again the oxygen tube in place and looking into his eyes. "Lou Jenkins committed a crime… Gary Michaels was a beast and, personally, I can't blame Jenkins for what he did. However, we cannot take justice into our own hands. If that happened, the world would just become a battlefield. We would be killing each other in no time. What you did was right. I'm sure Jenkins understands it that way."

Reid nodded.

"I hope so." He said, sniffling and trying to keep his tears at bay. "You know, Morgan? Sometimes, things like that make me wish I could be as cold as many people believe I am. To not feel anything, but to reason it, like a robot. That's why I love science. Chemical elements will always react the same way when mixed with others… numbers will never fail you… Physical laws apply the same way in the whole universe… Emotions… emotions are difficult and painful. I wish I could hate my father."

Again, Derek didn't say a thing. He found difficult to believe his friend could hate anyone in the world.

"I should accept that it's just the way he is." Spencer continued. "Hating him for that, would be like hating my mother for having schizophrenia. I can't. I just don't know what to think, what to feel about him."

The older agent sighed. Back in the desert, he had found out that this kid really loved his father, in spite of everything. If Spencer didn't want to say, or his conscious mind didn't want to admit it, Derek didn't have a clue, so, he decided not to mention anything about it. After all, it was Reid's right to keep his feelings for himself. That afternoon in the desert was a secret that only belonged to him… and Morgan swore he would take it to the grave.

"Have you talked to him after Las Vegas?" He asked, instead.

"I tried, many times. No more. Every time I called, either he was on a meeting, or out of the city in a business trip. I left messages and he never called back. It makes me sad that even now, when we had a chat and supposedly fixed things… he's still not talking to me. He said he didn't know how to be my father anymore. I guess it's true. For him, I will always be just a Google search. A folder with information saved into his hard drive. A curiosity."

There was so much bitterness, so much hurt in Spencer's voice… Derek opened his mouth wanting to say something… and then he closed it again, knowing that none of his words would ease the pain, the years of neglect, the loneliness in his friend's heart.

Fortunately, a knock on the door interrupted the uncomfortable moment. Reid breathed deeply, still trying to clean his face the best way he could. He looked at his friend intently, as if asking Morgan not to talk to anyone about their conversation. The older man nodded in understanding.

"Come in." Spencer said. The door opened somewhere at his right side, and before he could see who it was, he heard Emily's beautiful giggle, and Rossi's laugh. That warmed up his heart and made him forget a little about his physical and moral pain.

"Hey, Reid." The woman said, approaching with a wide smile. "Dr. Fernandez told us you woke up at last. I'm so glad… we were all very worried about you…"

She placed her hands softly at both sides of Spencer's head, and sweetly kissed his forehead, taking him by surprise. Usually, he didn't like physical contact, but this time, Emily's touch was like a warm blanket for a cold soul. He could not help but smile, honestly, for the first time in ages.

"This is from the girls of the team." She said, releasing him. Gently, she wiped the lipstick from his skin and an inadvertent tear from his cheek with her thumb. "I sent Garcia and JJ a text message to let them know you're better. They're so happy, I think they're already planning a welcome party."

"It will have to wait until after the weekend, though." Derek said then. "That's when Elena said he will be discharged."

"Elena?" Rossi inquired, raising one eyebrow at the same time he was staring at Morgan. "Some patients here are getting very friendly with the staff."

"Well. Morgan believes she is great… and I agree with him." Spencer said. "She's one of those to whom I owe my life."

"Oh no…" Emily intervened. "Don't tell me we lost Reid and Morgan after all."

Everyone around Spencer laughed. Seeing him alive and reasonably well, knowing he was going to be all right after they thought they were going to lose him, after those harrowing hours at the desert, after the seemingly endless days they spent at his bedside praying for him to get better, was such a relief…

"Speaking about life savers, where's Hotch?" The young man asked. "I'm so grateful with him and with all those who helped us to come back…"

The answer to his question came through the open door in that moment.

"Reid, what did I tell you about putting yourself in danger?" Aaron asked. His face had his famous unreadable expression. "You're turning this into a habit."

"I know, Hotch… I'm sorry." He said. "I can't promise it won't happen again, but I'll do my best to avoid it. I have come to the realization that I don't like hospitals, at all. Don't misunderstand me, I believe people in these places are fantastic. They're heroes. What I can't stand is the smell. After this, I will stay away from the hospital for a very, very long time."

"I hope so." Hotchner said, and his face showed the subtlest of the smiles. "You're an important part of this team. You have to take care of yourself."

"I will." Reid said, sighing.

Of course, at the time, he had no idea that less than one month after his total recovery from this incident, he'd find himself locked in a room with a corpse and a cloud of Anthrax, where he would see death closer than ever. Then, just four months after miraculously surviving that, he would push a victim out of the path of a bullet that he'd take in his left knee, one that would cost him three surgeries, more scars and the use of crutches and a cane for almost seven months.

Aaron approached and placed a bag with the logo of the hospital gift shop on the rolling table, next to the bed. Inside it, Spencer could see at least three books. He smirked.

"Make them last until the weekend." Hotch requested.

"That's another thing I can't promise." The young man said. His eyes roamed slowly over the smiling faces of each and every one of his present colleagues, and he pictured in his mind the images of those he had at home. He witnessed their affection, their relief and their sincere happiness, for him.

Thinking about this, Spencer realized that, somehow, after all, he did have a family, apart from his mother… and a big one.

He was loved. He was not, or would ever be, alone.

For now, in spite of the pain he still had, the young man felt safe and in peace.

The nightmare he had in the desert never haunted him again.

The damage that his father caused would always be there. His soul would always bear a scar deeper than the ones he carried now on his skin… Nevertheless, he understood that it was useless to waste his time blaming the man for something that could not be changed. It was better to realize that great expectations almost always take you to great disappointments and resentment was a poison that would only cause more pain. It was better to forgive, to accept, to love him the way he was.

After all, William Reid had given him the most precious gift he could ever have… his own life.

For that, he would be thankful forever.

"Real family does not come from your blood. It is the people standing beside you when no one else is."

Author Unknown.

THE END.

Author's Note:Thank you for following this story until the end. To write it has been a great learning experience, in more than one way.

The geographic, technical and medical facts, I got them from Google. If you find any inaccuracies, please let me know. Any critique is constructive and by doing that you're helping me to learn even more.

See you soon.