Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and all its associated characters are property to CBS and no profit is being made from this story.
Author's Note Reid and JJ fluff ahead, because I think they're adorable together, haha. Also, many people requested hearing the story told from other team members. Also, to one reviewer, CMSP, I have a rule for myself where a chapter I post can be no shorter than six pages on Microsoft Word, so don't worry, the length will never get shorter, just longer. Thank all of you for the comments and I will most certainly try to get those views in here. If you have any other comments on how this can be improved, just send a review!
Also, I apologize, as one astute reviewer- MelanieMM- pointed out, Reid is actually six foot two. Sorry for the mistake, I intend to fix it as soon as possible. Thank you for the correction =D
Chapter Three: Remaining So
'We're all born mad. Some of us remain so.' -Samuel Beckett
Reid had never hated his teammates as much as he did now.
Really, just because the doctor said not to bring any case files or even books for him doesn't mean they should listen. Concussion be damned! He was bored and he wasn't capable of watching television all day or twiddling his thumbs. He needed something to stimulate his brain! Needed something to keep it going, keep the synapses fresh.
And they just didn't understand it. So what if he got a headache from focusing on the print on a page or for trying to solve problems too in depth- he was a BAU special agent! That was all he knew.
Oh yeah, next time any of them need help, he's not going to be the one giving it to them!
'Well, except maybe JJ,' he thought to himself before he was even aware he felt that way. He blushed. He needed to stop acting like a teenage boy around her. But those butterflies in his stomach would just keep fluttering at the thought of the pretty blonde, and he felt so incompetent and so young.
'Maybe because you are?'
By god.
Even his thoughts were turning against him.
xXx
JJ was an angel, Reid decided.
A beautiful angel who understood what Reid was going through and decided to read to him. Yes, when Hotch and Rossi and Emily and Morgan had shaken their heads, telling him that they were on doctor's orders to not bring him books and that he should watch some television, JJ stepped forward and suggested that she read to him.
It took longer and his stomach was filled with butterflies performing trapeze acts and acrobatic feats at her close proximity, but it was amazing.
She sat as close to the bed as possible, and Reid was able to smell her shampoo- it smelt like mint. It was so fresh and energizing he couldn't help but inhale the scent deeply. She didn't seem to notice though, as she kept reading her book to him. It wasn't a book he would've selected on his own- it was a simplistic, fictional drama- but it didn't matter. It was something to do and, more importantly, it got JJ and him alone and close together.
He was lying on his back, his body squared to be parallel with the ceiling, but his head was turned towards her. His eyes alternated between open and close, unsure of whether he wanted to watch her or relax to the words she was saying.
He really could be so juvenile sometimes.
Deciding sleep was too important, he closed his eyes and began to sink into the pillows and mattress. It was late. He wondered why they hadn't asked JJ to leave. Maybe they forgot. Or maybe they were so happy that he stopped asking for something to read that they were willing to bend the rules in order to have him shut up. Either way, he nuzzled his head into his pillow and sighed contentedly, listening to her read.
As her voice grew more and more distant and his head was clouded over with sleep, he heard her yawn loudly and then say, "Spence?" She spoke softly, so as to not disturb him should he have fallen asleep. He wanted to answer her, wanted to let her know that he was still awake, but he couldn't. He was so tired and it took more effort than he would care for in order to open his mouth and have it form the words he needed. So he just remained quiet, half asleep.
"Spence?" she said again.
And again, he didn't answer.
He was too tired. And he was sure the nurse had given him some medication to "calm" him. That didn't help matters. He heard JJ stood, and he tried to urge himself to wake up just long enough to say good night to her, but before he could even open his lazy eyes, his bed dipped with added weight. And then a body slid in next to him, yawning softly as she curled into herself, her head falling to rest in the space between his arm and chest, partially lying on both body parts.
His heart stopped.
Was JJ really lying down with him? Risking his secret, that he was really awake and not asleep, he cracked an eye open and saw a mass of blonde hair strewn over his chest. It was real. She was really lying down with him!
He suppressed the urge to shout in happiness. Instead, he gave a fake yawn and shifted his position to something that was more comfortable- which resulted in him wrapping his arms around her as much as the wires would allow, and burying his face in her hair. For a second, he feared she would realize that he was awake and leap out of the bed, repulsed, but she didn't. Instead she shifted closer to him.
And Reid never felt happier.
xXx
The man never felt happier.
When all hope seemed to fade, when he was sure his studies were over and he would have to put them on hold for lord knew how long, a new record showed up in his computer file- one that described the person he needed exactly.
At least, it appeared that way, he would need to see the young man first, as well as perform a physical on him. After all, he was brought to the hospital in an ambulance after a pretty bad traffic accident, according to his file. But a physical was simple. And from the report, he had no real lasting injuries- nothing broken, no brain damage of any sort- just a nasty concussion that was, according to the doctor's signature at the bottom, healing quickly and nicely. His concern rested more with the personality of this young man than his physique or physical health.
Based on his height and weight, he seemed pretty close to the bill. And his hair and eye color were right on the mark. He was healthy, concussions heal, and so that was perfect too.
But he needed to have the right personality.
Clapping his hands together in excitement, he decided that a visit to this patient would be a good idea. He could gauge his personality and perform his own physical on him. Simple as that.
He giggled. He was so close! If this man passed the final exam he would give him, he was perfect! His studies would be back on track and this time, with new hope of succeeding. As this patient already had the seeds he needed planted. He already had mental health problems in his family, and even better, in his immediate family.
The grandfather clock chimed loudly, indicating the end of his shift. He was working later than usually, in the hopes that a new patient record would be added. And his hopes were not unfounded.
Rising from his seat, he hit the print button on his computer, making the slim printer to the side come to life in a cacophony of whirring and whizzing. As the file printed, he began to gather his things, collecting them in a plain black satchel and then hoisting it over his shoulder. When the sounds of the device ceased, he snatched up the paper, sighing contently at the prospect of his research having new life.
After skimming it one more time, memorizing every bit of information he could, he placed it neatly in his bag and left his office, locking it behind him.
As he walked through the hospital towards the exit, where he would hop in his car and leave, he noticed the numbers on the door. Four hundred and fifty-three, four hundred and fifty-two…
His patient was in room four hundred and forty-nine. He was close.
He slowed his steps, deciding he would be remiss if he didn't pay a quick visit to this young man. But he would need a reason- he wasn't assigned to him, so him simply strolling into the room would not be written off as unusual. And then he saw it. His excuse.
Kira, a young nurse, was making her rounds through the floor, huffing and puffing unhappily as she dragged the vital machine behind her. Perfect.
"Kira," he said, smiling warmly at the twenty-something nurse.
She looked at him, offering her own tired smile. "Hello. Just making rounds, Doctor," she said and was about to go on her way when he stopped her.
"Why don't we split up the floor? I'll get rooms four hundred to four hundred and fifty, and you get the rest." She beamed, laughing happily.
"Thank you so much! That's so wonderful! Thank you," she said over and over again, prancing to the nurse's station to grab a new vital machine for herself. The doctor simply smiled, shaking his head.
"Think nothing of it, my dear. It's the least I can do," he said, pulling the machine with him and heading to room four hundred and fifty. One room away…
After ten minutes of wrestling with the sleeping man to take his vital, he left and head for his real destination. Four hundred and forty nine…
He was there. But with someone else?
He quirked his head in confusion. There was a young, blonde woman, lying beside him as they both slept peacefully. How long had she been here for? Visitors weren't allowed to stay this late. And they most certainly weren't allowed to sleep in the same bed as the patients!
Sighing in frustration, he looked away from the girl and turned to the patient, snuggled in next to the girl. A gasp escaped his lips. He was perfect. His hair, light brown with golden highlights fell into his structured face. His complexion was smooth and alabaster, matching the whiteness of the sterile, hospital environment. He was absolutely gorgeous. Perfect.
Chuckling, he began taking his vitals, gently performing some of his own tests- feeling his lymph nodes, checking his heartbeat, feeling his head softly, etc. So good, so far. He left the room, smiling excitedly.
"Kira, there's still a visitor with the patient in room four hundred and forty-nine. I would wake her and send her on her way," he said, turning to head to the next room.
"Oh, that's Special Agent Jareau," Kira responded. The man stopped in his tracks, turning around slowly. Special Agent? Meaning, working for the FBI? He wasn't sure if this was a good or bad development. Was the patient a member of the FBI? Would that be a help or hindrance to his cause? Would they even understand his studies? Even though he was sure of the necessity of his procedures, he could understand why others would not. This really was a setback…
"Is the patient a Special Agent, too, Kira?" he queried. She wrinkled her nose slightly.
"Apparently. He seems too young, right? I didn't believe them when they told me, but he's like some genius or something. They said he was a prodigy, and so the FBI made an exception for him," she shrugged, as if she was still doubtful of the whole situation.
This only piqued the doctor's interest. A genius? Perhaps it was a risk worth taking…
Thanking Kira for her help and answers, he left to continue the rounds he really had no more interest in now.
xXx
Morgan sat in the passenger seat of the car as Hotch drove them to the hospital, followed by a similar rental car which contained Rossi, Emily and JJ. They were on their way to pick up Reid, who was to be discharged today and he was feeling his guilt returning once more.
He really didn't see the driver.
He really did have the right away.
He really was careful.
But still, Reid had been in the hospital for three days- one of which was spent in an unconscious state- suffering from a pretty bad, though healing, concussion and various other injuries. Seventy-two stitches in his arm from the window and car door shattering against him. A sprained wrist from being thrown around the car and bruised ribs, one rib broken. He just felt so guilty. If he just went slower, just waited one more second, Reid would've been alright. Even if he had still gotten into a car accident, he wished that he would've been the one to receive the most damage. But no, he walked away with five stitches in his forehead and two sprained fingers.
There was nothing fair about that. He had been the one driving; he should've been the one knocked unconscious, lying in a hospital bed. Not the other way around.
He rubbed his face, sighing.
"He's going to be okay, Morgan. We're going to pick him up, bring him to the police station and continue working on this case. Nothing we'll get him back to perfect health than using that brain of his," Hotch said, trying to comfort his friend. Though it did little to alleviate his guilt, the normally cold, stoic man trying to reach out to him was touching and enough to make him smile.
"Yeah, Boy Wonder will be happy to start working. The nursing staff probably had a mental breakdown after dealing with a bored Reid," he added, laughing. Hotch smiled in agreement.
xXx
Reid was practically bouncing off the walls the morning of his discharge. Now that they had finally allowed him to walk without having a destination in mind, his legs were jittery with the action. Walking! What a great thing to do! How come he didn't walk more? It was wonderful! He didn't ever want to sit down again.
But his body was not pleased with this new revelation.
His sides were still sore as his ribs weren't healed yet, and his wrist throbbed with every jerky hand movement, but he didn't care. Mind over matter- he had proven that ever since he was a twelve a year old in college. It's about thought, not body mass.
He had just started to slowly stretch his hands above his head, testing their boundaries, when a doctor walked in, carrying a vital station and the discharge papers. Reid furrowed his brow. He didn't recognize this doctor.
He was tall and muscular, with a broad shoulder and chest. His extremities were thick and long and he had to have stood well over six feet. Despite how intimidating his body was, his face was quite warm and friendly. He had deep brown eyes, surrounded with smile lines and brown hair, flecked with gray as he offered a full smile.
Despite how kindly this new doctor seemed, Reid couldn't help but wonder why he was here.
"You're not the doctor from before," Reid said slowly, eyeing the man suspiciously. But he simply smiled warmly and placed a hand on his chest, as if hurt by his accusatory tone.
"Relax, Dr. Reid. I'm just here to discharge you," he explained handing Reid yet another clipboard and pen to sign with. He was really starting to hate clipboards. With a sigh, Reid wrote the necessary information as the doctor, whose name badge read 'Dr. Andrew Wright', took his vitals.
About a minute into this routine, Dr. Wright began to speak. "I was reading over your file the other day and, pardon me for being forward, but you did write that your mother was a paranoid schizophrenic, yes?" Reid looked at the man wearily, biting his lower lip as he simply nodded his answer. He really did hate talking about this. Why did it have to come up all the time? It really was getting old.
However, Dr. Wright seemed intent on speaking about it as he then asked, "Do you ever fear that perhaps you carry her genes for it?"
Reid's head shot up then, his hazel eyes set hard and steely as he glared at the man. He had no right to ever insinuate such a thing. He clenched his jaw, then unclenched it, then clenched it again. Dr. Wright simply looked at him expectantly.
After a long pause, Reid handed him the clipboard and stood, preparing to leave as he said, "Every day of my life."
xXx
Author's Note: Another chapter out! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, or added this story to their alerts or favorites. It means a lot! Send a review with your thoughts or suggestions! Here's another present!
Chapter Four: More or Less (Preview)
"The UnSub has medical theories and practices that put his Hippocratic Oath at jeopardy. He was probably kicked out of medical school once it was revealed just how unhealthy his ideas were, even though he still believes he was justified. He was probably close to receiving his doctorate, he seems too good at what he's doing to have been kicked out earlier than that," he explained.
Rossi grabbed his cell phone and flipped it open, looking at the team before saying, "I'll have Garcia find locals who started medical school but never finish." As he went to hit Garcia's speed dial, Reid stopped him.
"Also, tell her to cross-reference that list with morticians and artisans in the area. The UnSub most likely does a job that incorporates either his medical training or his hands. Even though he was kicked out of school before becoming a qualified doctor, he's probably tried to hold onto his dreams, distorted as they are, in his field," Reid explained.
Rossi then called Garcia to give her the profile.