But you'll see every day
That we'll never turn away
When it seems all your dreams come undone
We will stand by your side
Filled with hope and filled with pride
We are more than we are
We are one - We are One, Disney's the Lion King 2, Simba's Pride
Aaron Hotchner was a patient man - perhaps the most professional, patient and understanding man that Derek Morgan had ever had the pleasure of knowing, all of this rolled into a pain in the ass drill sergeant. So when Hotch got mad, it had to be serious and from the look on his face, his anger was barely staying in check. He put the phone down and looked like he was going to throw it, before collapsing into the cafeteria chair, picking at his sandwich. Apparently his hunger hadn't made him desperate enough for hospital food.
"Something wrong, Hotch? You know, other than the obvious?"
"Strauss wants us back in Virginia -"
"Back? Hotch, we can't leave him -"
"Well, she's not a total - it's a testament to her concern for him that she's allowing us to stay until his family arrives. He needs support, but it doesn't necessarily have to come from the team. I'll call her again later, try to talk some sense into her. Any word on his family?"
"Dr. Wilson said he got a hold of his mom's doctor, as well as an Ethel Armenta in Arizona."
"What about his father?"
"We're still trying to find him. Dr. Wilson tried to call him but was told he had the wrong number. The secretary who answered the phone said that she'd never heard her boss mention a son. I've got Garcia looking into it."
"Morgan, I don't want her having to do this. She's traumatized enough, that's why I called Kevin Lynch."
"Guys, I've got something." Garcia approached them, looking on the verge of tears. "Dr. Wilson got the right number. I know Reid was raised in Nevada. I looked up his birth certificate and there's only one William Reid with that date of birth who was living in Nevada in the 80s and 90s. He still lives there in fact, in Sumerlin, less than 10 miles from Reid's childhood home."
"That can't be right, how could he have a genius FBI agent son and not brag about him?" How could his father's colleagues not even know of his existence?
The look of fury on Hotch's face made Garcia want to run for the hills. "Give me William Reid's file."
Garcia gladly handed over the copies that Dr. Wilson had given her.
"Defense Attorney. Hmm..." He hated defense attorneys. He had to fight with them all the time to keep their unsubs behind bars. He'd always wanted to give them a piece of his mind. Now it looked like he would finally have an excuse.
Morgan watched Hotch flip through the file as well as the information Garcia had pulled up on her laptop. He picked up the phone, a grin forming on his face, not unlike the ones that unsubs got when they were looking for payback.
"My name is Agent Hotchner, I'm with the FBI's Atlanta Field Office in Georgia. I need to speak to William Reid regarding a client, a Jeffrey Collins."
After that call, he picked up the phone again. "Agent Franks, this is Agent Hotchner. No, he's not doing well at all. In fact we're having trouble getting his workaholic father over here. I told him that I was with your office and that one of his clients was hospitalized. He's got a long standing injury case with a Jeffery Collins who moved here from Nevada a few months ago. His name is William Reid and he will be coming by the office to see me, just send him over here, but don't tell him that its really about his son. Thanks, I will. Bye."
When Hotch put the phone down, Morgan's eyes were bugged out and his jaw dropped. "So, it's true, there really is a first time for everything."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. You, Aaron Hotchner, just lied to a victim's family."
Something changed in Hotch's posture, it wasn't much but it was there. It was mostly in his eyes. It was the look of a man who had aged a year in a day. "What's that look for?"
"You just called him a victim."
"So I did, so I did." It was necessary, that didn't mean it wasn't painful. Talking about family notification made it easier to think in terms of victimology. "When we called for hotel rooms this morning, I actually booked one for him before remembering that he...you know, that he already has a bed reserved."
"Not that I don't appreciate the conversation, Morgan, but what do you need?"
"I'm looking for Gideon. He's not answering his cell, do you -?"
"He went back to the field office about an hour ago."
"The Field Office?" Of all the stupid, senseless...
"Because apparently paperwork can't wait but Reid can."
"Paperwork? Reid is fighting for his life in a coma and Gideon is worried about the paperwork?"
"So it would seem. I don't have the patience for him right now. Why? Why do you need to talk to him?"
"Because Dr. Wilson told me that Reid's Advance Directive just arrived on his desk - and Reid named him as medical proxy."
Garcia followed Emily down the row of ICU beds, taking in the condition of the various people around her, hooked up to more machines than she could count. Reid was here? Her enthusiasm for getting Dr. Wilson's permission to come back here was waning, maybe he'd been right to ban her. All around her patients were moaning in pain, some were even screaming and occasionally she could see the line up of machines through the curtains.
Emily finally stopped n front of a curtain that was indistinguishable from the rest. "You ready for this, Garcia?"
"Yes," her voice shaking.
"Okay." Emily pulled the curtain back, her eyes never leaving Garcia.
"Oh my God!" Her hands flew to her mouth, unable to stop the whimper and the tears. Her poor baby...
"Garcia, breathe, calm down. There you go," Emily led her to the chair that had been Gideon's.
"Calm, got it. I'm calm." Taking a deep breath, Garcia reached for his hand, only to find...nothing. His arms were tucked under the blanket. He had ice packs on either side of his neck and he had electrodes on his head, not to mention the ventilator.
"What's wrong with his head?" She wiped the tears away. "I thought his MRI was clean."
"Well he has a concussion but those electrodes are to monitor brain activity. They had to give him medicine to paralyze..."
"Paralyze?" Garcia's voice rose several notches, dropped her voice to a whisper at Emily's signal. "I thought they were trying to avoid paralysis...why?"
"The doctor is worried about paralysis due to spinal or brain injury. The medicine stops the muscular contractions that cause shivering which is the body's way of raising temperature and Reid can't afford that. Unfortunately, it can also mask seizures so they have to monitor his brain so they can treat a seizure if he gets one."
"So, its temporary?"
"Yes, the medicine will wear off."
Emily picked up the magazine that she had left on her chair and began reading aloud where she had left off.
Garcia couldn't listen to Emily, she also couldn't talk through the lump in her throat. She reached under the blanket to hold his hand...only it wasn't a normal blanket. It was freezing! She had thought he was cold last night. No wonder Emily was sticking to talking...this was painful. But it was what Reid needed. He could hear people all around him supposedly, but how was he to know they were here for him without the contact? She didn't want him thinking that everyone else had visitors except for him. She kept a hand on the one part of his head that did not have electrodes "I'm here, Reid. Emily's here too. We miss you so much!" She blinked back the tears, caressing his cheek. "You're okay. You're safe."
Prentiss put down the political magazine, feeling a headache coming on. Reid would have found it fascinating, but it made her think of her mom...that wasn't going to help. "I need a break."
"A break, you think Reid is getting a break?"
"I've been sitting with him all day. I've probably read like half of the magazines in the waiting room to him. I've never felt like I'm doing so much and being so helpless at the same time. And my hands are going to turn into ice cubes pretty soon," she added, picking up her mug of coffee. Another five minutes, then she'd get another cold gel pack from the nurses...She'd never been so lazy and so exhausted.
"You're not helpless, Emily, you've done more to help him than anyone else on the team."
"Thanks."
"It's true, you even stayed with him during the epidural. I'm sure he appreciates it."
"I just wonder if its enough, I'm not sure if its actually helping. It feels like he's slipping away no matter how much I try to hold on. I'll be back, and remember, happy thoughts only."
Emily practically ran out of the ICU once the curtain was closed, stubbornly wiping at the tears that had been burning in her eyes all afternoon. She could compartmentalize better than most it was true. She had worked with various law enforcement agencies all around the world and she had lost countless friends, colleagues and family. Loss was not new to her, but this drawn out process of mounting questions and no answers - that was new. Normally she knew more or less what to expect within a few hours of an injury. Either the person died and she coped, or they lived and she rejoiced with them.
In fact more often than not, the death of a fellow law enforcement officer, even sometimes made her job easier. There were so many rotten cops being paid off that sometimes cases were closed with surprising swiftness after someone died. She hated to admit it, but it was true. But it was like Garcia had said - Reid was innocent. There was nothing to be gained with his death, no one had a target on his back. He was sweet and endearing, even when he was being a know-it-all. That was the thing with Reid - even when he was being a know it all, it wasn't to brag, it was to impart knowledge that he thought could be helpful. The problem was he didn't know when to stop. That was when the teasing and whispered rumors of a cyborg supercomputer began. She hadn't noticed it for a while, but whenever someone would make a computer joke, his face would fall slightly - like he'd been hurt. Of course he'd been hurt. All he wanted to do was help and all he got was ridicule. On more than one occasion, that person had been her.
She closed the stall door and sat down on the closed toilet lid, hugging herself as she cried.