Derek Morgan knew immediately that something was wrong. Baby Girl and J.J. would not be waiting outside Reid's hospital room if everything was A-okay, nor would they have tear-streaked faces.

"Derek!" - and Baby Girl would not be using a first name basis and crying in his arms for nothing, either.

"Penelope, what happened? Is Reid -"

"Reid's okay." J.J. explained, as Garcia hugged Morgan, trembling in his arms. She knew that Reid wasn't himself at the moment, but he was always the rational one. Him blaming her had hurt her more than she cared to admit. "He apparently has a bit of a temper when he's in pain. He said some things, they weren't false, but they were hurtful."

J.J. quickly recapped the conversation. Morgan listened growing angrier by the minute. Suddenly shooting Hankel wasn't enough. He wanted to beat that bastard's head in- and then Reid's. Nobody talked to his Baby Girl that way, pain or no pain.

"Listen, Baby Girl, I'll talk to Reid. I need you to look up Elle's number. I'm hoping she might be able to give us some advice on how to help Reid. I tried to call her, but the number is disconnected."

"Okay, okay, I can do that."

Morgan walked in the room to see Reid lying in bed-the look on his face that was halfway between a smile and a grimace. Morgan picked up a sports magazine and sat down, he could wait.

"I'm okay," Reid assured the caller. "No really, I was hurt on the case last night but I'm better now. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm sorry I didn't return your calls sooner. Okay, bye."

"Who was that?" Morgan asked as Reid hung up the phone.

"My mom's doctor. She had nightmares that I was in trouble, they had to give her a sedative. Her doctor has been trying to call me ever since... Anyway, I had to let her know that I'm fine. He's going to have her call me as soon as she wakes up."

"You're not fine," Morgan corrected.

"I AM! And besides," he continued before Morgan could cut him off, "if I tell her the whole truth it might trigger an episode."

Morgan couldn't imaging what it must be like to be concerned about your mother's mental state enough that you could never tell her the full truth. Reid needed his mom more than ever, but it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon -at least not in the traditional sense.

"Reid, look, I know you're upset, but blaming Garcia. That's out of line, man. You need to apologize to her. Not right now," he added at the look of outrage on Reid's face. "I know you're head isn't screwed on right now..."

"My head is FINE!"

"Reid -"

"SHE ASKED FOR IT!"

"Garcia wouldn't-"

"Not her, J.J. She wanted to know, so I told her. You can't be mad at me for honestly answering a question."

Morgan was about to object that Reid could have been nicer about it, but stopped himself. Hadn't he just admitted that Reid's head wasn't screwed on properly? "So, J.J. should have been careful what she wished for?"

"I told her nothing good would come of it."

"Reid, we've all had a rough few days..."

"Rough?" Reid's jaw dropped in outrage. "You've had a few ROUGH days? What do you think I've been on a picnic or something?"

"That's not what I-"

"Do you have any idea what I've...?"

"We saw the videos." He knew that was a sore subject. Not only had they seen Reid at his most vulnerable, but that was also why Reid felt the team had let him down.

"That was 20 minutes out of three days, you have no idea -"

"No, Reid, I don't." Truth be told, the team had been going out of the way to NOT think about what Reid was going through. It had been necessary to keep their focus. "Tell me."

"You don't want to hear!"

"Yes, I do! I want to help!"

Reid laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "If you want to help, then get me some more pain medicine!"

"Reid, if the pain is back all you have to do ask for more morphine and you'll get it."

Reid shook his head, almost laughing at the genuine confusion in Morgan's voice. If only it was that easy. "You don't get it, just leave me alone!" He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Reid turned around to face the curtain that separated him from Hotch. He knew his unit chief was eavesdropping. Damn bastard. He had Morgan to his right and Hotch to his left. He was trapped. He waited for the sound of Morgan walking to the door and closing it behind him, but he heard nothing of the kind. Instead he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

Reid rested his head on his folded arms, blinking back the tears that would not stop.

Neither of them said a word.

Morgan kept his hand on Reid' shoulder for several minutes. The silence hung between them, Reid laying so still that Morgan thought - more like hoped- that he might even have fallen asleep.

Morgan ran his hands through Reid's hair, neck, upper back - he made sure to stay away from the bandages. He wanted Reid to know that he wasn't alone without being pushy or demanding. That wasn't what he needed right now. He needed understanding and compassion more than anything.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, after the awkward silence became too much. He massaged Reid's shoulder blade, working out the muscle knots. Reid's skin was..freezing and drenched in sweat - a rather contradictory combination that raised questions Morgan wasn't sure he wanted answered.

"For what?" Reid's whisper almost went unheard. The massage felt comforting and relaxing...and painful all at once. It was the strangest combination he'd ever felt. "You didn't do anything wrong." Morgan hadn't been there, he wasn't the techie. He had been off somewhere else, doing his job, blissfully unaware of the danger until it was too late.

"For this. I know you weren't there, but all we wanted was to find you, man. That was the only thing on our minds for those three days. The only reason we didn't find any bread crumbs to follow is because there were none."

"So then how did you find me?" No one had talked to him about that night, as if they were waking up from a nightmare. But for Reid, who was always 10 steps ahead of the competition, that gaping hole of information was driving him crazy...and it was a nightmare he was still stuck in.

"Hankel finally made a mistake. He didn't take a long time to upload the murder video. We had the victim's address, we knew he had to be within a 17 mile radius. We had your graveyard clue. We saw Marshall Parish on the map. Emily had found a journal entry about 'Marshall'. Until then we thought it was a person not a place. But when we realized there was a cemetery there, we knew where we had to go. We didn't waste any time."

"Who was watching when..."

"Garcia saw it happen after we left. She called the paramedics. They were there the whole time. We had them stay by the road, no point in getting the medical help caught in the cross-fire."

"And what exactly was 'it'?" Reid turned back to look at Morgan. "No one will tell me..."

"No one wants to tell you, because no one wants to think about how close we came to losing you last night. Without Charles' mistake, we'd be watching your murder video right now."

"But my Bible clue..."

"Without that geographic profile we would have been going to dozens of graveyards. That one was listed first as a plantation - the graveyard was secondary. It would have been our last stop, not the first. Kid, trust me, you don't want to know."

"Don't tell me what I want, Morgan! Concussion or not, my brain is still functioning. I have to know."

"Knock, knock," a familiar voice cut off Reid's rant, but it wasn't one they were expecting. It was Detective Farraday. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Reid tried to give the man a smile in return, but he knew it fell short.

"I want to thank you folks for coming out to help us. It was a -" He held his hand out to shake Reid's hand, dropping it when Reid made no attempt to take it.

"...pleasure?" Reid finished. "It wasn't."

"Right, it wasn't. Not at all. I'm just glad I'm not waking up to another video. But it is a pleasure to see you doing so well."

"Detective is there anything we can get for you? Dr. Reid isn't exactly in an entertaining sort of mood."

"Yeah, sorry, I just came by for the um, for the knife."

"Knife? What knife?"

"I'll get it."

"Morgan, what's he talking about?"

Morgan didn't answer. He disappeared behind Hotch's curtain and came back with an emesis basin and in it was a knife in a blue autoclave bag. It was covered in blood. Why hadn't the nurses cleaned it?

"What knife?"

"Well we need forensic evidence to officially close the case so if we can get DNA off of Hankel's knife-"

"Why is - what is Hankel's knife doing here?"

"He doesn't know? How can he NOT know?!"

"Know what?"

Reid didn't miss the way Morgan was shaking his head at the detective, but the detective - his wide eyes fixed on Reid in disbelief- didn't notice. "This is the knife he used to stab you."

"Thhaat," Reid stuttered, "was in my back?" It was a good thing he was already lying down in bed otherwise he would have fainted. He looked frantically from detective to agent, waiting for one of them to correct him, but no one did. So that's why breathing had suddenly become impossible last night. "That's why you kept telling me not to move." It all made sense, everyone's panic, every time he had tried to roll onto his back to go to sleep. How Emily had held him against the hospital bed...

"Reid, breathe. That's it, slowly. In and out. You're okay now. You're safe." Morgan sat on the edge of the bed, both of his hands on Reid's shoulders, his eyes flickering between his friend and the monitors.

Reid looked at the knife that had been set next to the bedside phone. It was still covered in blood. His blood. That thing had to be at least six inches long. He reached behind his back so he could feel the stitches beneath the gauze..no, they weren't stitches. They were too large and rigid. Staples...there were...He paused for a moment, feeling suddenly nauseous...19. 19 staples. Morgan took the pillow away and laid his head on the bed and propped his feet up on the pillows. "Just breathe for me, okay."

Reid did as he was told, his eyes on the ceiling and away from the stuttering detective.

Too easy, I ought to give you time to think about what you've done. The knife had been right there. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt the blade beneath his chin.

"Hey, hey, look at me. Reid! Reid!"

He felt something closing around his face.

"Breathe for me, pretty boy. Breathe. Deep breaths."

That horrible sharp pain that suddenly engulfed all of his senses...

"Reid?"

"Reid!"

"I need some help in here!"

Garcia scanned the gift room shelves looking for something that did not scream 5-year-old boy. "That would be great, Elle. Reid could really use the company. We'll see you in a few hours. Bye."

"Paging Dr. Wilson to room 219. Code Blue. Dr. Wilson to 219. Code Blue," an announcer voice sounded from overhead.

219? That was Reid's and Hotch's room, and given Hotch's minor injury... "J.J.!" She put down the stack of crossword puzzle books and ran out the door, J.J. on her heels.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her down the hall. She ran into Reid's open door... Morgan was there, standing behind the curtain, his head in his hands. Hotch's voice impossible to miss from the other side of the curtain. He was pleading with Reid. In fact he almost sounded like he was...crying.

"SPENCE!"

Morgan grabbed J.J. around the waist, pulling her close as she struggled to disentangle herself from him. "Don't! We need to stay back!"

"Clear! All clear! Agent Hotchner! Let go of the rail!"

A horrible beeping noise filled the still air.

"Noo, no please!"

"Clear!"

Aaron Hotcher took in his agent's pale face, unable to believe that this was happening, not now. The danger was supposed to be over. "Reid, we can't lose you now, you've fought way too hard to quit now."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, bring up Reid's emergency contact.

"This is Agent Hotcher, Dr. Reid's emergency contact. I need to speak with his mother, Diana."

"Agent Hotchner all calls are routed through Dr..."

"EMERGENCY! Get me Diana Reid now! Her son...he's, he's dying."

"Clear!"

"Spencer?" Diana Reid's frantic voice filled the room. "Baby?"

No pain, no imaginary freezers trapping him. Just pure blissful, warm light like a hot summer's day...God, it was good to be back. Last time, he had been more than a little disappointed to wake up to Rafael's voice...from peaceful bliss to pain like he'd never imagined. No, thank you. He was here to stay.

He kept walking and walking, to where he had no idea. He'd find...something, eventually. He had all the time in the world.

"Mr. Reid?" a small voice called out somewhere up ahead... a small voice that sounded very familiar. A voice that still haunted his nightmares.

"Don't you remember me, Mr. Reid?"

Of course he remembered her. How could he ever forget her? "Mandy."

The little girl - only four years old -stepped out of the light, wearing a white robe - her golden curls looking so pretty when they weren't marred with blood. Amanda Sterling - one of the first cases he had worked with Hotch. She ran into his arms, the Reid Effect all but forgotten in this wonderful place.

"I'm sorry," he cried as he held her close. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"But you saved Nate," she reminded him, her head buried in his shoulder. Yes. Yes, he had saved Nathaniel - her two year old brother.

"There are more kids like Nate who need your help, Mr. Reid. You have to go back and help them."

Go back? But he wanted to stay here. Here where children were safe and happy...not screaming and dying. He held her tighter

"Spencer." He felt Mandy's head turn on his shoulder.

"Who's that?"

He turned to see a man, not much older than himself. He was tall and thin, black hair and a pencil thin mustache, but it was his eyes that caught his attention. They were so much like..."Uncle Daniel?"

"I always knew you'd be taller than me," the young man smiled. He reached out to give his nephew a hug. He could have stayed here forever. It was so peaceful.

"SPENCER! BABY!" a screamed echoed all around them.

It sounded like..."Mom?"

Had something happened to his mother? Was she here too? The chances of that were...

"NOO!" her screaming voice sending chills down his spine.

"No! No. Baby, please. Spencer!"

"She needs you, Spencer. The other children need you."

"But I want to stay here!"

"I'm sorry." Daniel let go of his nephew, taking Mandy with him.

"Clear!"

Dr. Wilson put down the paddles and looked at his watch. 1:52 pm. 7 minutes since he'd been paged. He should call it. One more, just one more. He only hoped his idea worked.

He charged the paddles again. "Clear!"

"Clear!" and again. And again.

Hotch watched as Reid's body continued to flop under the pressure of the defibrillator - the ice bag falling to the side again. Hotch readjusted it between shocks, trying to block out Diana Reid's hysterical sobbing as he did so. The doctor had told the nurses to pack his head with ice after the first few shock attempts had failed.

"Clear!"

That damned line kept up its monotone beep.

"Clear!"

Then it was gone. The rhythmic sound of the heart monitor was back.

Hotch turned towards the machine, not daring to believe that his eyes and ears were agreeing with each other.

The doctor heaved a huge sigh of relief as he put down the paddles. "Sinus rhythm. We've got him."

"He's alive," Hotch told Diana. "He made it." He turned off the speaker so only he could hear Diana's sobbing take on a tone of relief instead of hysteria. "Keep talking to him." He put the phone between Reid's ear and the ice-pack.

The doctor picked up the chart at the end of the bed and wrote down his orders. "ICU. Now - and do not move that ice!"

"Yes, Doctor."

"And get Agent Hotchner his discharge papers."

"Yes. Doctor."

Dr. Lawrence Wilson collapsed in the chair, turning to the team. "Do not touch the ice!" At the team's predictable looks of confusion, he explained. "We've been giving him ice therapy all day to reduce inflammation and to dull the pain, rather than risk further epidural complications. That's what saved his life."

"How can ice-?"

"His core body temperature was lower than normal, meaning his body - more specifically, his brain - requires less blood flow to function. So when his heart stopped, it wasn't quite as much of a shock to his system. Stop the heart at room temperate and full capacity and the brain will die without blood after five minutes. But in this case, the cold bought him time - precious time. It's a double edge sword. Too much cold can kill, but the right amount can protect the brain from permanent damage. It's like," he searched for a realistic explanation, "your kitchen freezer. The cold of the freezer keeps the food from rotting, but it needs to be packaged properly otherwise the frost will kill it. But when you open up the package and reheat the food, it's still delicious and nutritious."

"Did you just compare my genius to a piece of meat!?"

"What I'm describing is called Medically Induced Hypothermia and presents the best possible survival outcomes post cardiac arrest."

"How long does the ice pack need to stay on?" Hotch asked, shushing Garcia, and motioning for her to sit, before she fainted.

"Its not just the ice pack. Since he never lost consciousness last night, we kept to a strict regimen of off and on gel packs and ice blankets. But we're taking that to the next step. We're going to wrap his chest and and legs in ice blankets and keep them on for 24 hours, cooling his body down to 92 degrees. After that time, we'll slowly increase the temperature. He won't wake up for at least 36 hours and that's being optimistic."

"Thank you, doctor."

"You want to thank me, don't give him another memory induced heart attack." He inclined his head toward the knife, still sitting on the end table. "Some patients have short term memory loss. He might be lucky enough to not even remember any of this."

"What the hell happened?" Hotch demanded once the doctor had left. "I get to sleep for half an hour and you give him a heart attack?"

*PLEASE REFER TO SEASON 7 EPISODE 6 "EPILOGUE" FOR THE INSPIRATION OF THIS CHAPTER...AND NO I DID NOT LEARN ABOUT MEDICALLY INDUCED HYPOTHERMIA THROUGH CRIMINAL MINDS, ABOUT 10 YEARS AGO I SAW A DISCOVERY HEALTH DOCUMENTARY TITLED "DYING TO LIVE" ABOUT SOMEONE GETTING TRAPPED IN ICE AND BEING RESCUED HOURS LATER, IT'S FASCINATING. I found another documentary about the same patient and posted the link to my profile along with several links with information about medically induced hypothermia.