Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and all its associated characters are property to CBS and no profit is being made from this story.
Chapter Twenty: As It Should Be
'Sanity may be madness but the maddest of all is to see it as it is and not as it should be.' –Don Quixote
"Careful with him," Morgan warned a medic who was fastening the still unconscious Reid to a stretcher, his voice filled with worry and the hints of a threat.
The medic, seemingly oblivious to the menacing meaning in his words, simply smiled and said, "Don't worry, Agent. We'll make sure he receives the best of care possible."
"Make sure that you do," he said as he turned to speak one last time with the others before he was forced into an ambulance. Really, his shoulder wasn't so bad he needed his own ride to the hospital. But protocol was protocol, and he was being pushed by both the medical staff and Hotch to get all the care he needed.
Emily stood with the group as well, leaning slightly on JJ as the world still blurred around her. Her face was drained of all color and she shook visibly, her eyes looking around lazily and tiredly. A layer of gauze was wrapped around her head and she held an ice pack up to the back of her skull, most likely trying to dull the pain of her concussion.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking concernedly at her. She seemed about ready to topple over.
But ever the strong-willed agent he knew, she smiled shakily and said, "Fine. Just happy it's over. At least...kind of. Hotch was telling me about his...condition." Her smile dropped the instant she spoke of Reid, upset that she hadn't been there to at least see him. She refused to let her eyes wander over to where the medics were strapping him in and getting him ready for the ride to the hospital- seeing him lie down lifelessly and inevitably injured would be too much. Once he was awake, she could compromise on the wounds. But until then, he looked too broken at the moment. Too broken for her to want to ever see.
"There is a silver lining to something," Hotch said after a moment, looking contemplatively off to the side.
Morgan put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "And what is that? I fail to see the positive in what's happened here." he said.
Hotch regarded him for a second, before ignoring the almost rude quality to his voice and saying, "Reid attacked Andrew. He kicked his leg in."
"Well, he was being held at gunpoint, Hotch. Even a fly knows when it's in danger," Morgan said.
"Yes, but look at it this way: Reid was convinced that we're a delusion and that Andrew was his savior. The fact that he could attack his savior while steadfastly holding onto that belief is impossible for me to understand. I think that, for a moment, his flight-or-fight response kicked in and pulled our Reid back out. If only for a second," he said. He paused for a long while before adding, "If he came out once, he can come out again."
"Like Conversion Disorder," JJ said slowly, a small smile growing on her face. "They have a trauma-induced disability that can be waived in matters of life and death."
Hotch, for a quick nanosecond, flashed a small smile and said, "Exactly. Except, for Reid, he was suffering a trauma-induced insanity which he waived in a matter of life and death."
Morgan couldn't resist the broad smile that he pulled, his glittering white teeth bared as he managed a small chuckle. "My boy Reid is still in there!" he said cheerfully, clapping his hands together. His heart was swooning with happiness. He was still there! Somewhere, maybe not in the surface, but somewhere. He could still be Reid. He would come back to them, stronger than ever. He just knew it!
"Agents, the ambulances are ready to leave. Agent Morgan, Agent Prentiss, you should get situated in your stretchers now," a medic said as he approached the team, then, turning to JJ and Hotch, added, "Will either of you be riding with anyone or driving yourself to the hospital?"
Hotch turned to JJ, sharing a look before saying, "I'm sure we can have some officers drive the cars back to the station." He then looked to the medic and asked, "Will it be alright if I ride with Reid?"
The medic opened his mouth but closed it as he looked over his shoulder to where Reid was being hefted into the ambulance. "He'll be unconscious for several hours because of the sedative. But yes, you can. Will you be riding with anyone, Miss?" he asked JJ.
She looked between Morgan and Emily, as though debating who to ride with. After a moment, she said, "No, actually. I think the car ride will be a good time to just think."
"Alright, then. We'll be leaving now though. So Agent Hotchner, if you could head over to the ambulance right there," he pointed to where Reid had been only a moment ago, now safely tucked away in the vehicle, "I will get Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss in their ambulances as well."
Hotch nodded his thanks and said his partings to his team as he headed over to where Reid was and where the paramedics were getting the last of everything ready. It felt like he was floating- like his feet were taking him where he needed to go without his knowledge, his brain out of the loop. His mind was swimming, blood rushing to his head. The reality of the situation was finally crashing into him, causing a surge of a thousand emotions, all entirely different from the other.
After a week of painstaking searches and profiling, they found Reid.
After a week of severe torture, he had slipped into a psychotic episode.
After a week of working harder than they've ever had, they brought Reid to safety.
After a week of submission to a sociopath and a insane killer, Reid was no longer Reid.
After years of partnership and friendship, they failed Reid.
They let Wright take him. They let Varney lead them astray. They let him go through a week of torture. They let him live in a personal Hell.
Even if Reid ever came to forgive them, Hotch wasn't sure he could forgive himself.
And when he sat down on the small bench beside the stretcher, the medic beside him as the engine roared into life and began it's trip to the hospital, he saw this new Reid for the first real time. Broken limbs. Scarred appendages. Burned skin. He saw him for everything he was in that very moment: Abused, misused, and probably frightened beyond fathomable possibilities. His entire life was being questioned in his mind! Who he was, who he had been, what he had done to get where he was- all of it was being pulled out from underneath him. He couldn't decipher which was real and which was being spoon-fed to him.
And that was when it all made sense to him.
He never understood Reid's fear of insanity, of inheriting his mother's illness. He always thought it was one of those unreasonable frights based off of him putting too much stock in statistics, as he often did. But staring at him, evaluating the situation for what it was, he not only empathized with this fear, but he felt it.
To not know what was a ghost and what was real, to not know what was a imagined voice and what was an actual voice, to not know who or what you truly are...
It was terrifying.
And now Reid was forced to literally face his fear.
He just hoped that Reid would come out of this a better person for it. But really, he couldn't ask anymore than for Reid to come out of it at all.
He reached out and grabbed of his hands, examining it slowly, painfully. His chest tightened at the boniness of it, at the yellowness of the skin that pulled over the incredibly ocular bones and veins. His stomach jumped at the three fingers, void of fingernails. Being in the career field he was in and being the furthest away from naivety that anyone could possibly be, his mind created the scenes before him, unbidden. Against his own volition, he saw Reid have his nails being ripped out one by one, scared and in pain. Wondering where his team was when he needed them most...
He squeezed his eyes, trying to block out the images. And after several minutes and with many years of perfected compartmentalization, he succeeded. He was able to look at Reid and not see his face contorted in pain, his eyes hollow with fright.
Hotch held his hand, subconsciously massaging the knuckles as he stared at his face, calm and serene in a forced sleep. He looked so damaged, so defeated. Nothing like the Reid he knew, the Reid he came to love as a close friend. He always liked to consider Reid like a younger brother of sorts- guiding him and teasing him all at the same time.
And now his brother was gone.
He was tortured, beaten, abused and now he was destroyed. He would be forced into some cold and unfeeling institution and when- if- he ever regained his sanity, would then have to deal with the trauma. But it could never be truly lived with. He would spend the rest of his life with nightmares, running away from boogeyman that, no matter how far away they physically were, would always lurk in his closet.
Bowing his head, hiding the thin streaks of tears that slid down his cheeks, he rubbed his thumb over his hands as he said in a voice so soft that the medic beside him was unaware he even spoke, "I am so sorry, Spencer."
xXx
"Spencer!"
Reid jumped at the noise, his eyes snapping open and his heart thumping wildly against his chest. He was looking up to a white ceiling, lying on his back on a thin yet soft mattress. Beeping machines surrounded him and various wires poked under his skin or attached to him with gel. What had happened? Where was he?
He was so perplexed by the sudden change in environment, that he had forgotten about someone calling his name. Until, the loud booming voice filled the room again and he sat up, straining the wires that tried to pull him close. He swallowed when he saw the angry figure off his father in his room, standing by the light switch, his finger raised to the little knob as he prepared to flip it down, a wide, disturbing grin on his face.
"No," Reid begged, watching as his finger wavered over it. He needed the light. He hated the dark. "No. Please don't," he said again, his eyes flitting over to look at Will, wide and pleading.
"You always were so weak. Never good at sports, never good at making friends. Only good at reading a book and remembering all the shit it said. So weak and pathetic. Do you even have any real thoughts of your own, or all they are just some paraphrased lines from books?" he taunted, sneering.
"Please...go away," he asked again.
"I wonder...what would happen if I turned these lights off? Would you scream? Would you cry? If I recall correctly, you were afraid of the dark. Very afraid of the dark," he said, his finger pushing the knob down slightly, with just enough control to keep the lights from shutting off. Reid felt himself shake, fear and uncertainty rushing in his veins.
Why was his dad here?
Where was here?
'Please don't turn off the lights...'
"I just wanted a son. Not a wimp, not someone to be disappointed in. But a son. Was that so much to ask?" Will said, his voice filled with regret and hurt. He then turned to his son, smiling wickedly as he added, "You think you're so tough. Working for the FBI. But once the lights go out, we all know that you're a worthless, sniveling little girl."
And with that, he flipped the switch.
The room darkened.
Reid screamed.
xXx
"How's your arm?" Emily asked as Morgan walked into the hallway, his shoulder bandaged and forcing him to reach out with his other arm to grab the cup of coffee JJ offered him.
"It's fine. They wanted me to stay the night but I refused. I wanted to be here with Reid. How's your head?" he asked, sparing a glance to the door that stood slightly open. The door that led to the room where his friend and colleague was held, wearing away a week of pain. A nurse had stepped in to perform vitals and take notes and he turned back to his teammates as Emily answered.
"It's alright. Nothing I'm not used to, with this job and all. Rossi's doing fine, too. But, I only say that because apparently he yelled at two nurses when they told him he couldn't leave to visit Reid. Hotch is speaking to him now, then said something about making a phone call," she explained and he couldn't help but smirk. Rossi would bring hell to the nursing staff if they tried to keep him away from one of his team.
"Has the doctor said anything about him?" he asked, looking to the door as he said the words, hearing mumbled voices come from within the room. Was he awake? The sedative only lasted six hours. It had to have worn off by now.
"No. He was busy with other things. Plus, we wanted everyone to be here when he told us,"JJ said, following his gaze to the room. She heard it too. Speaking.
"He...he's awake?" Emily asked, swallowing as she set her coffee down on the small table beside their chairs. She stood, along with JJ, as they stared at the door, wanting for the nurse to come out and say that they could visit him. But instead, a strangled scream filled the air as the light from the room blinked off.
"Reid!" Morgan yelled, sprinting to the room in three long strides. When he and the others entered, they saw the nurse, dark drown hair pulled back and wide green eyes filled with sudden fear as she waved her hands in front of Reid, trying to calm him down.
He was screaming, twisting his head and limbs around violently before lurching off the bed. Startled, the nurse place her palms on his chest and tried to push him. By the touch made him scream even louder, pulling back as if it burned him. His hands clawed at where she had touched him, kicking his legs in the air and causing her to stand back from the bed.
"What happened?" Emily said accusingly.
The nurse opened her mouth to respond, but Morgan cut her off, angrily flipping the lights on as he bellowed out, "The lights need to be on! Did you even read his file before you came in here?"
The nurse looked about ready to cry, flustered and confused as she looked to the still screaming Reid and back to his furious protector, her knees growing weak. "I...I didn't think...I-"
"Clearly!" Morgan snarled, causing Emily to snap at him.
"Morgan! It was an accident!" she hissed.
He looked at her, his mouth slacked open, the sudden realization of how absurd his actions were overcoming him. Did he really just flip out on a young nurse for turning the lights off? For all he knew, that wasn't even what set Reid off! It could've been anything- the man had gone to Hell and back, he had a lot to scream about.
Turning to the shaking nurse, he looked guiltily into her eyes and said softly, "I...I'm sorry. I was just...He..."
She forced a tight-lipped smile on her face. "Don't worry about it. You're right. I should've been more careful. Sorry," she said tersely as she practically ran from the room, nearly forgetting her clipboard of notes in her attempt to flee the scene as quickly as possible. Morgan looked after her, feeling the urge to follow her and make sure she understood the sincerity of his apology. But Reid's strangled cries stopped him.
He turned to the bed, watched as JJ sat herself down beside him and wiped tears from her eyes. He could tell she wanted to grab his hand, to stroke his cheek. But she stopped herself, clearly thinking back to what had happened when the nurse tried to push him down. He hand twitched in her lap though, as if it took all her effort to not reach for him.
"Spence," she said softly through her tears. "Please. Please, come back."
Reid continued to writhe on the bed, the wires becoming twisted around him as his screams faded to grunts and every-so-often shouts. He was moaning, his face contorted in fear as he began speaking to an entity that wasn't there, his voice trembling.
"Stop...leave me alone...please...the lights...the lights are...its dark," he whined, frowning deeply as his eyes squeezed shut.
"Reid, open you eyes," Morgan said as he moved closer, kneeling down beside the bed. "The lights are on. Open your eyes."
Slowly, the wrinkles on his lids from straining his eyes close lessened and he opened them, blinking at the brightness and turning his tear streaked face to his three visitors.
"Oh, Reid," Emily said, gasping. This was her first time seeing him and it literally stopped her breath right in her throat. Where had Reid gone? Not only was his body so worn down and broken, making him look like a fragile and shattered version of himself, but his eyes. He wasn't in there. She searched and searched his dull hazel eyes, but she couldn't find him. He was too far down to even shine through in his own eyes.
"Andrew," he croaked out, his voice hoarse from his fit. "I need Andrew."
"Have some water, Spence," JJ said as she stood, turning to the small pitcher and plastic cups set beside his bed. She poured him a glass and offered it to him, but he just looked at it, turning his hard gaze back to her.
"Where is he? You said I could visit him," he said.
She bit her lip and looked to Morgan, who immediately jumped in.
"You need to get some rest first. And drink water," he urged, nodding towards the cup that JJ still held in her hand. His voice sounded horrible. He couldn't imagine his throat felt too good either. But Reid simply ignored the statement.
"Please...you don't understand," he said, his lip quivering. He looked so sad, so hopeless. Like a lost puppy constantly looking for its master. "I need him. He's going to help me."
"I know, Reid. But right now, he needs to rest and get better, and so do you," he said, curling his hands into fists. What he wouldn't give to have five minutes alone with Andrew and a get-out-of-jail free card! His neck would be twisting beneath his fingers instead of air if he had those two things...
"I feel fine," Reid lied. Clearly, he did not feel fine. The shaking, the scratchy quality to his voice, the numerous wounds...he was the exact opposite from fine. And that was excluding all the psychological damage he wasn't even aware he had.
"Spence, please-" JJ said, but a doctor rushed in, clipboard in hand as he walked over to his patient, eyeing the team suspiciously as though they were the ones responsible for his outburst.
"Can you take me to see Andrew?" Reid asked, turning the man with wide, hopeful eyes. Maybe he would help him. Clearly this imagined people would do nothing of the sort.
The doctor, rather young looking with thick, black hair and a strong, well sculpted face, softened his expression when he turned to him. He smiled as he said, "I'm afraid Andrew isn't feeling well enough for visitors right now. He asked me to take care of you for him though, told me all about your case."
Reid's eyes widened and he sat up in bed, his elbows propping him up as he asked, "Really? Can you help me?"
The doctor nodded. "Most certainly. I wouldn't let Andrew down by not helping his patient."
Reid smiled- a large, glowing smile that seemed wrong somehow on his face. So sunken and hollow, so filled with pain...he shouldn't be smiling. Why was he smiling?
"Can you perform the therapy treatment, then?" he asked.
The doctor furrowed his brow as the others leaned in closer. Therapy?
When he didn't receive an answer, he clarified, "The electroshock therapy? Andrew was going to do it for me before...before he got hurt." He sent a sideways glance to Morgan, his eyes narrowed in hate and the man nearly stumbled backwards at the sheer venom his tone contained. Did he blame him? Sure, he was the one who shot Wright, but did he hate him for that? Would he always hate him? He swallowed, hoping that wasn't true. Hoping everything would just go back to the way it used to be. Hoping Reid would just be Reid.
He didn't think he could ever stand to see so much anger and loathing turned to him by those eyes.
But his thoughts were turned away from the strong look of utter detest when the words finally registered. Electroshock Therapy? Good God, was that really what Andrew had been planning? Had they really gotten there right before he was about to zap Reid's brain?
The impulse to find this man's room grew stronger. He would kill him. He would kill him if he ever saw him again, he was sure of it.
But while he was steaming in rage and Emily and JJ were gasping in shock, the doctor simply took a second to hide his initial response- wide eyes and open mouth- and smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, we don't have the technology to perform such therapy. But we do have many alternatives that are just as effective. Some even more so," he said.
Despite the look of disappointment that shadowed Reid's face, he sighed and nodded. "Okay. I guess that'll be fine then."
"Good, good!" the doctor said, reaching over the young agent and to the table where the pitcher and cups sat and poured him a cup of water. He handed it to him and tentatively, Reid grabbed it, slowly bringing it to his lips and then downing it. It felt so good on his sore and raw throat, he reached for the pitcher himself and poured a second cup. The doctor stood now, smiling as he said, "If you would like, you can tell me what you want Andrew to know and I can tell him for you. He can't have visitors, but since I'm a doctor I can stop by and let him know what you said."
Reid thought for a moment, finishing a third cup of water as he said, "Could you tell him that when he gets better I want him to be my doctor again? Please?"
The doctor nodded. "Sure. Now, lay down and get some rest. We'll continue with Andrew's treatment plan for you in the morning."
"Okay," Reid said, smiling that out-of-place smile once more.
The doctor made a motion for the team to follow him and one by one they left, entering the hall. The doctor turned to them, his face serious once more. "I'm Spencer's doctor, Dr. Ostheim. I was going to wait to explain the situation until your other agent was discharged, but I don't think we have time anymore," he said with a sigh. He bit his lip and then looked at his watch. "Get your boss and then head up to Agent Rossi's room- 307. I'll join you as soon as possible and let you all know what's going on with Spencer and what we plan on doing for him."
"Is...is he going to be alright?" Emily asked, still disturbed by what she saw. It was all too much at once.
Dr. Ostheim chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second. "It depends. I'll explain all of it in about an hour," he said, turning away from the group, leaving them all to wonder what would happen to their friend.
xXx
Hotch swallowed nervously as he picked at the hem of his jacket, listening to the ringing of the phone in his ear. His heart was beating fast- he couldn't believe he had to do what he was doing. This was the one thing he always wished he'd never have to do for any of his teammates. But here he was, doing it, his heart thumping and his leg tapping with anxiety.
How long had he been on hold for?
He looked at his watch.
Only two minutes? Hmm, strange. Felt longer.
The ringing finally stopped and a voice answered. A confused woman said, "Hello?"
Hotch took a deep breath. "Diana Reid?"
"Yes...who's this?" Reid's mother asked.
"This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I'm your son's Unit Chief," he began, wiping a thin layer of perspiration from his forehead with a tissue. "I'm calling in regards to your son, Spencer."
"This has something to do with him not talking to me for the past couple days, doesn't it?" she said and he could here the anticipatory dread in her tone. She was terrified of the news he would give her and he wanted nothing more than to lie to her. But he couldn't. He had to tell her the truth.
"I'm afraid so. A week ago, Spencer was...he was kidnapped by our UnSub. We rescued him, and he's in the-"
"A week ago?" she said, her voice dangerously low. "A week ago this happened and you are just now thinking to inform me of this?"
"With all due respect-"
"With all due respect, my ass! If you had any sort of respect for me you would've called me the instant this happened!" she yelled into the phone, her voice tearful and he could tell that she was crying hysterically, as any mother would.
"I'm sorry. You're right, I should have. But we were distracted by the case. We put all our time and effort into finding him," he said, but she cut him off, her voice immediately losing the angry tone and being replaced by a frightened, fretful one.
"How is he? Is he alright?"
He swallowed what felt like a rock stuck in his throat. "He...he was hurt badly by this man. We have yet to receive a full report from his doctor, but the moment we do I will make sure to call you right away," he dutifully said. But she snorted at him through a large sob.
"How did this even happen?"
He wanted to leave. He wanted to hang up the phone and walk away from this. Throw this duty in the trash and forget the responsibility. He wanted to lie again. Wanted to tell her that there was no way this could have been prevented. That Reid would've been captured either way and would be living the same fate regardless. But he knew he couldn't. He knew he had to tell her the truth. He had to stay on the phone. Accept the consequences.
"While investigating a series of murders, Spencer went somewhere to study evidence. At the time, we didn't know it was a set up and he was abducted by the man who committed the murders. I'm so-"
"DON'T!" she shouted, and he had to pull the phone away from his ear. "Don't you dare apologize to me! You don't have the right to! You just let him go out there and get kidnapped? You're his boss! You're supposed to protect him and make sure this doesn't happen! How does a profiler not realize when they're being set up?" Her voice was filled with disgust and he internally cringed at her words, knowing that they were justified.
"You...you..." she stopped, her cries becoming too great as she wept into the phone, sniffling as she tried to stifle the noises she made. And he just sat there. Uselessly. The phone attached to his ear, a tissue clenched in his fist, beads of sweat rolling down his face. He just sat there for five or ten minutes, hearing this woman he didn't even know cry her heart out. Listening to her mourn over what he should have prevented.
Finally, she calmed down enough, only taking in sharp intakes of breath that seemed to wrack her whole body with the intensity. In a high, whiny voice she said, "He was my baby. You let him hurt my baby."
His lips went dry.
His mouth went dry.
He felt too hot.
He felt too cold.
He felt the need to move.
He felt the need to sit still.
He felt the need to breathe.
He felt the need to stop breathing entirely.
His body was at war with itself as his mind ran a blank. What was he supposed to say to her? What comforting words could he use? Could he even comfort her? She had the right, most certainly, to be inconsolable. But did that mean that he shouldn't even try? Should he tell her Reid's outlook was good, when even he himself was doubting the man's future? Should he try to apologize, even though she said not to?
In the end, he could only say one thing.
"I know he was."
There was silence. Then, "I hope this keeps you awake at night, you monster!" she sneered. He winced. Her voice was sharp, so stabbing. He felt physically pained when she spoke to him. Spencer clearly did not get any of this mother's assertiveness. "I hope you're unable to sleep at night, knowing that you let my...my baby! Get captured by a murderer! And when that report comes in, make sure someone else calls me to let me know!"
The line clicked with the end of their conversation.
xXx
Author's Note: Another long chapter. Same amount of pages as the last one. Thank you all for your reviews once more! Several reviewers had commented about how hard it must be to update so frequently (each chapter is posted once it is completed now, so I've been writing about a chapter a day) But I really gotta tell you guys this: Your reviews make it easy. Knowing that people are enjoying this story so much and are getting so into it is motivation enough to keep pounding those chapters out! I suspect this story will be done within the week, but that is just a guess based off of my outline. A rough four or so chapters left.
Here are some specific replies and once again, thank you all for your reviews and favorites/alerts.
Essebes: Sorry for making you cry! But I suppose, in some perverse way, it's a good thing, no? -laughs awkwardly- I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!
CMSP: Another long chapter up! I'm glad you liked the chapter- it was personally one of my favorites. And yeah, crazy Reid is kinda hands on isn't he? Keep reading and your answers will soon come (sounds very wise in an out-of-place way).
Reidemption: Can you tell I like my JJ/Reid fluff? Hehe...Hopefully the more psychological answers will come in the next chapter, provided my plot bunnies stop screwing with the outline. I'm a big psychology buff, but I always fear that I may deviate from the factual side of it all, so I'm having a mini nervous breakdown (Reid: It's called a Major Depressive Episode now) with my portrayal of Crazy Reid because I want it to be realistic. And I imagine that his brain is so burnt out from stress and the cognitive reinforcement of the torture that it'll accept near everything it's told just to establish a semblance of peace. So yeah, the electroshock therapy sounds good to his mind which would rather believe everything Andrew tells him than risk torture. The self preservation mechanism can be a bitch. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!
Pigfarts on MARS: I almost made Varney's mom live in Winnipeg for the sole capability to say "Winnipeg?" "That's in Canada." But that seemed too obvious, even to my oblivious mind...either way, I'm glad you liked the chapter and continue to feel the same way about the others.
Velociraptoritis: I would cry. Nuff said.
Allyouneedislove-mr: Why, it most certainly makes up for the lack of review. A review is a review- why get nitpicky? Especially when it was such a nice review! Thanks! Like I said, knowing people enjoy this keep it going at the rate it's at. And you should scroll up to the reply I wrote to Reidemption. Very much along the same lines, with the psychology reference. I hope my story doesn't disappoint!
A big thank you to all other reviewers! It makes my day, and the chapters write themselves. Feeding my plot bunnies? Hells yeah! (I try to discourage myself from writing based on reviews, but, like most writers, it's impossible to not write when so many people are very much looking forward to the updates.)
Chapter Twenty-One: Symptoms of Insanity
"Can I...can I ask you a question?" JJ said, grabbing the extra fabric of Dr. Ostheim's sleeve as she followed him down the hall. He turned to her, his eyes looking at her sympathetically as he nodded.
"I know I may not have the same psychology training as teammates, but one thing I know is that um...one theory to ugh...schizophrenia is that someone is born with the genetic makeup for it and then something...an outside force...can trigger it. That someone can live their whole lives with schizophrenia but never suffering from it if it isn't triggered before they turn thirty." She stopped speaking, fumbling over her words as she tried to articulate her thoughts but found she was unable to. Her throat was closing up and her eyes stung. She couldn't ask the question. She was afraid of the answer.
Thankfully, Dr. Ostheim understood her train of thought.
"Are you asking me if this trauma triggered a dormant gene for schizophrenia in Spencer?" he asked, a brow raised. Hesitantly, she nodded, preparing herself for whatever his response was: good news or bad news.
But dear Lord, did she want it to be good news.