Hi! Here's the next chapter. I'm not too happy with it, but I can't spend any more time agonising over it!

Warnings: Urine.

For the most part, Spencer's physical injuries were superficial, and he would heal. The doctors tried to talk to him about the surgical options for his missing ear lobe and the gouge in his arm, but Spencer didn't want to listen. He wasn't talking yet, but anyone who frequented his room knew that when he pulled the blankets up to cover his face, he wasn't interested. The swelling in his brain had lessened, but the seizure activity continued. They weren't noticeable, and JJ didn't worry until the doctor let her look at Spencer's charts, full of steep mountains and zig zags where there shouldn't be.

The rest of the team continued to send flowers, and drive to the hospital just to wait outside Spencer's room and peek in through the window. JJ had tried to get Spencer to come out from under the blankets and let the rest of the team see that he was really back with them, and was closer to 'okay' than they might think, but it was useless. Garcia had been to the library and taken out a pile of new books, and all Spencer wanted to do was lay in bed and listen to JJ read them. So she did. One hand balancing the book, and the other gripping his and tracing circles with her thumb.

Then Spencer was moved from ICU to the recovery ward. Learning to trust his friend, and understand that at the very least, he wasn't alone anymore, had been hard enough. In the new ward, he was dealing with an elderly dementia patient who walked up and down the hall all day and stared in through the small window in the door, and less-than-compassionate nurses who had no regard for the low lighting, low voices rule they had established.

On the first night, Spencer didn't sleep. The elderly man continued to pace the halls, and Spencer kept his eyes firmly on the door. JJ knew he was just waiting for this 'Z' to return, terrified he was going to be taken away again.

"You're safe here, Spencer." JJ said. She'd lost count of how many times she had said the same thing, but she just didn't know how else to comfort him.

By the morning, JJ's had finished Watership Down and had made a good start on The Hobbit. Spencer's eyes were still focused on the door, red and swollen. When the nurse entered, pushing a trolley with a plate of food on it, Spencer jumped. It was the first time he had shown signs of life in hours. JJ watched him stare at the nurse for a few moments, as she set up his bedside table, before realizing who it was and relaxing considerably. He didn't even flinch while the nurse began to unhook his tubes. Usually, he would fight, but this time keeping watch of the door was far too important.

"The male nurse will be in soon to give him a bath." The nurse said. "He's well enough to get out of bed."

She then looked to Spencer and wrinkled her nose.

JJ was tired, stressed and sick to death of the ignorant hospital staff. Despite really wanting to yell and scream at them, she didn't think any good would come of it. She would only upset Spencer, and he was only just beginning to trust her. She just couldn't understand it. Perhaps Spencer was physically better, but he wasn't even able to speak. No one seemed to have considered how traumatising being stripped down and touched all over by a stranger might be for him.

"No, I'll do it." JJ offered. She was his friend. She would be gentle.

The nurse didn't protest, merely gesturing to the food.

"He needs to eat this too." She said, before making a quick exit.

JJ looked to Spencer. He wasn't even blinking.

"Spence," She tried. "Can I help you take a bath?"

There was no answer, but JJ had given up expecting one.

The team went state-wide with there inquiry. Nobody in the neighbourhood knew anything, but someone had to. They set up a hotline, which was immediately bombarded with phone calls. The majority were immediately dismissed, but one stuck out. A mechanic, Mr Neil Jackson, said he had hired someone who had only identified himself as 'Z'. They brought him in.

Hotch and Morgan sat across from a very nervous Mr Jackson.

"I paid him under the table." He admitted. "Times are hard."

"Our only concern is finding the man." Hotch said sternly. "Anything you can tell us will help with our investigation. How did you come to know him?"

"Well, he said he was experienced." Neil looked from Hotch to Morgan and leaned forward on the table. "And for the most part he knew what he was doing. But then things started going missing and-"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know... dozens of car batteries, ropes, tools. I had to fire him."

Morgan and Hotch looked at each other. There had to be more to it.

"Mr Jackson," Morgan said, "Did he ever display any unusual behaviour? Did anything seem off to you?"

Mr Jackson nodded immediately.

"Once he asked to borrow a tire pump. I asked him what kind of car he drove. Then he laughed."

Mr Jackson came in very close and looked at Morgan seriously.

"He started talking about stabbing someone in the chest with it, and blowing up their lung. I don't know, it was just creepy."

With some coaxing, Spencer was able to get out of bed and sit down in his wheelchair. He was incredibly light, and JJ had no trouble pushing him into the adjacent bathroom. She briefly considered calling Morgan or Hotch or even Rossi to help Spencer bathe, but decided against it. With everything going on, she doubted being embarrassed ranked very high for Spencer right now. She turned on the taps.

Spencer was limp in his chair, and stared expressionless at the wall while JJ began to undress him. She undid the hospital gown and guided Spencer's arms out from the sleeves, throwing the garment towards the door and moving to Spencer's socks and underwear. She tried to look away from the letter Z's carved into his chest, the cigarette burns down his sides and the black and yellow bruisings around his groin. She couldn't help but notice that his thighs were deeply scarred by something that had eaten into his flesh. She took his arms, and this time he instinctively stood up. JJ supported him as he scrambled into the bath and sat down on the safety mat, then she watched as he closed his eyes and his face disappeared behind a mass of unkempt hair.

JJ found the washcloth on the side of the basin, and emerged it in the water. Spencer flinched, and he looked at her worriedly.

"It's just water, honey." She said. "After your bath you can try and eat something."

She caught tears as they started the fall down his face in rapid succession, knowing there was no way she could know what was wrong. She began to run the cloth over his face and neck, then started at the caked-on dirt and god-knows what else, stuck to the rest of his body. The nurse hadn't done a great job cleaning him when he was in the bed. They hadn't done a great job looking after him, period. She wanted to take him out of the hospital. But take him where? A psychiatric hospital? Spencer would never forgive her.

JJ began to wash Spencer's hair, being careful to avoid his head wound and keep the bandages dry. She wondered about the other cuts all over his body, and how badly they were hurting.

"Are you in pain?" She asked him. She lifted his hand and held on. "You just squeeze my hand if you are."

Nothing.

"We're almost done he-"

The sound of a cart crashing and someone screaming outside made Spencer begin to slam his head into the side of the wall. Terrified he was going to do some serious damage to himself, JJ wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. He struggled against her and gnashed his teeth, but he was exhausted and JJ was so much stronger.

"It's not for us, Spencer. It's for someone else outside."

As soon as JJ let go Spencer pulled away and then she had to listen to him cry, and watch his bones wriggle under his skin while he shivered.

Garcia tacked a police sketch on to the board. The man was white, in his forties, well-built and had a very hard face. He didn't have any freckles, scars or distinguishing features, but when Garcia looked into his eyes, she saw pure evil.

Having spent the morning on the phone to the families of the victims, Garcia was in a bad mood. After years, they had hoped that one day, their loved one would reappear. Garcia had to call and tell them they never would. Because there were so many victims, and because Z had such a high probability of killing again, they couldn't afford to be overly sympathetic about it. The families didn't get a home visit, but a mere phone call, and a request to come and collect what was left. Garcia was sorry. She was so, so sorry. But after every phone call, when the line went dead and she heard the ominous beeping, she hated herself because she always though the same damn thing.

Better them than Spencer.

"JJ said Reid's doing better."

Garcia turned to see Emily walking towards her, holding a cellphone.

"That's good, really good." She said smiling. "When do you think we can see him?"

Emily sighed and shook her head. "Soon, Garcia. He just needs some time."

"How much time? We're his family, we can help."

"JJ's with him. That's all wants right now."

JJ wheeled Spencer back into his room, angled him away from the door so he couldn't stare at it, and pulled up a chair next to him. Her plans to give Spencer a nice relaxing bath in the hopes that he would actually sleep had gone to Hell, but he might be able to eat.

Because Spencer had a serious aversion to tubes around his face, he was being fed by a naso-gastric line that the nurses only inserted during the night. His stomach was so small, and he was so dreadfully undernourished, that he could only take one meal a day anyway. The system had worked, but Spencer hadn't slept in thirty hours, and whether he knew it or not, he was starving.

JJ reached for the tray and gazed at the lumpy mound of mashed potato, the piece of something dressed up as "steak" and the portion of vegetables. It was hardly breakfast food - it was hardly food at all - but it would have to do. The potato looked like the most appealing thing on the plate, so she scooped some up and held it out to him.

Spencer immediately looked away. She watched his eyes dart around the room and his fingernails scratch at the hospital gown he was wearing.

"Spencer..." She called softly. "Spence, look at me."

She watched him wriggle in his seat and twist his head away from her. Then his nails moved to his face which was still healing and covered in scabs.

JJ wondered why he didn't want to eat, and why he was acting in such a manner, but she didn't judge him.

"It's food, honey. Just food."

No.

JJ took a bite off the food, and Spencer's eyes grew wide. He watched her with shock, as if any minute she was going to implode.

"Just some potato, that's all."

Food.

After that, Spencer didn't worry. As JJ spooned the food into his mouth, she wondered why she hadn't tried it before. It was the first thing a parent did for their child...

But Spencer wasn't a child.

She scraped the food from Spencer's lips when he had finished. She didn't think he could take the rest of the meal, but was happy with his progress. Small steps. Small, small steps.

"Do you want to keep read-"

There was a loud and persisting beeping coming from outside. JJ jumped and spun around, but saw nothing. When she looked back, Spencer was on his feet, stumbling towards his bed. Then he fell, his arms failing to catch him, and his face smacked against the tiles. JJ instinctively reached out to him, but he was across the room in a second, cowering in the space between the bed and the side table.

JJ crouched down in front of Spencer and laid a hand on his bony shoulder. His own hands were trying to decide whether to block his ears or his eyes, but ended up repeatedly striking his face.

"Spencer..." She said. "Spencer, remember, it's not for us."

Spencer starting crying. Or rather, he screamed. His hands clawed at his face, desperate to block out the noise and tear away the fear. JJ knew the sounds were the bleeping of machinery and the footsteps of nurses frantically moving around, but Spencer didn't. She had no idea what he thought was going on.

Please go. Please run. You put me back now.

"I promise you, you're safe."

JJ could smell urine. After years of working on crime scenes, she knew what fear smelled like. She knew pain and she knew death. She watched the wetness spread over the floor tiles, and hoped Spencer wasn't aware of what was happening. She thought of Georgia. She thought of how terrible Spencer had smelled when he had hobbled over to her, like fish and sweat. How she didn't even care, because at least he was back with them, and he was alive. She remembered hugging him, and she wondered how long it had been since somebody had hugged Spencer, or showed him any kind of affection at all. JJ risked it. She pushed the bedside table away and wrapped her arms around Spencer's shoulders. His bawling only got more intense, but this time he didn't fight.

JJ felt Spencer's hands find her back, and his fingernails scratch at her, and she started to cry too. It was selfish. It was disgustingly selfish to think her pain came anywhere close to his, but she couldn't help it.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer." She told him. For leaving you. For not looking hard enough for you. For not knowing how to help you.

The noises stopped, and slowly, Spencer calmed. His body was limp, and he lay against JJ like a giant rag-doll. She doubted he was going to be able to move any time soon, and began to rub warmth into him with her hands.

Put me back, please. Put me back. I hear him. Put me back now.

Amy.

My box.

"I'm taking you home, honey." JJ whispered. "Don't worry, we'll go home where it's quiet and you can rest."

Home.

My box.

I want to go home.

Please leave a review if you're reading, they really make my day and give me the motivation to continue :)