David Armenta counted to 10 slowly as he made his way down the corridor of hospital beds and machines. He had to get away from those agents. They were going to make his blood boil - as if him telling all of the family secrets was going to stop the monster psych episode that was coming. They were crazy - the lot of them.

He pulled the curtain aside to see his mom sitting at Spencer's bedside, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She didn't even stir, didn't even seem to notice his heavy footfalls or his heavy breathing. He took a seat next to her, slowly put his arm around her shoulder. "Hey, Mom."

"Davey?" her voice croaked, her hands came down to her son's half-attempt at a smile. "You came? I thought you -"

"Of course, I came." He pulled his mom into an embrace, his eyes fixed on the curtain, half expecting one of the agents to come back and offer help. Well if they dared, he'd have some words. He held his mother until the shaking stopped and her energy was spent. He didn't say anything. They both hated comforting lies, and they both knew it.

She finally pulled back, rubbing her raw puffy eyes. "I didn't think that he -"

"I know. Neither did I." His mom didn't even need to finish that sentence. They both knew how far out of control Diana's paranoia could get. Except this time it hadn't been paranoia at all. "Why don't you go get some sleep? Auntie Dia is with the team. I'll stay with Spencer."

"I don't know, I can't -" She turned back to her nephew, biting her lip in consideration.

"I'll stay with him," he repeated. "You can't help him right now. Go." He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to haul a hysterical Auntie Dia all the way across the country, but he could see the toll it had taken.

"You'll call me if -"

"Of course."

With a quick good-bye kiss to each of her boys, she left the ward.

Her boys. David let his mind linger on that thought as he studied his cousin's frozen face. Well that's what they were: both of them. "Hey, little brother." Ever since they had each lost their fathers, and Spencer had lost his mom to her psychosis...she had taken care of them both.

He'd told his mom that she couldn't help him, but really what could any of them do? Talk to him. That's what the doctor had said. If by any chance Spencer had any awareness at all...

"I know you're scared, Spencer, just listen to my voice, okay? Just follow my voice." He kept a tight grip on Spencer's hand, just as he had that horrible night so long ago. "Don't let go. Don't you dare let go."

William Reid was a man who prided himself on his immaculate appearance and his flawless poker face. It was necessary when trying to convince a skeptical jury that a man had not in fact been the butcher in their photographs. It was a skill he had honed and perfected over many years and yet it was one that had failed him today. He was fiddling with his hands, tapping his leg, exhibiting every possible sign of nervousness. Even an untrained eye could see his nerves. He didn't even want to think about what trained profiler eyes would see, especially since those eyes hadn't seen him since he was under five foot tall.

He sighed, glad that he was the only one in the elevator. It gave him precious seconds to sort out his mind. Something about this...situation simply did not fit. Jeffrey Collins wasn't here. He had known that ever since he had called his client en route to the airport. Perhaps the FBI simply had the wrong Collins, but it couldn't be...they wouldn't be so careless. They wouldn't call unless...

"Agent Morgan will see you on the fourth floor."

The elevator opened all too soon for his liking. He stepped out onto the fourth floor, his dread growing by the second. Hotchner's instruction had been to meet him at the office, so then why? Why had the nurse known to direct him to the FBI as soon as he got here? He had been hoping to be told that no one was here for him: no FBI, no Collins. It was after all - he glanced at his wrist watch - 6 am. Why was he even being allowed here? Surely even hospitals closed their doors to the general public at some...

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but we're fine!" The ward was uncharacteristically busy for such an early hour, but that voice - that very familiar voice - rose above all the others. It couldn't be! He hurried around the corner, hoping to see strangers, hoping to be wrong.

There- looking remarkably unchanged considering the last 15 years - was Ethel Armenta, arguing with a tall black man.

"Agent Morgan, there really isn't anything -"

Agent Morgan? Why was Ethel talking to the FBI?

"I understand that, ma'am, but I'm not going anywhere. If anything happens, I -"

"If anything happens?" She had no tact in hiding her incredulity. She wasn't even trying. "What else could possibly happen?"

His mind tried desperately to come up with a reason for the scenario playing out before him. Of course Agent Morgan and Ethel could both be at the same hospital. There was no reason to think...except they were talking to each other. It wasn't coincidence...which meant that they were both here for the same person, most likely a case victim. His mind immediately jumped to David, and just as quickly dismissed it. How bad of an uncle did it make him to hope that it was his nephew in the hospital? But that didn't make sense. He knew Morgan's name from his articles, just like Hotchner's...they both worked with Spencer and if David was the victim then Spencer would be the agent staying at the hospital. He was sure of it. His eyes scanned the ward, searching for...for who? His son could be any of the other visitors and he would never know. He wanted to tell himself that a father would recognize his own son, but would he? Would he really?

"Spencer?" He didn't care if he sounded hysterical. He just had to, he had to see for himself that his boy was safe...then he could rail on the FBI for being incompetent jerks for pulling his strings like this. But first...

"William? William Reid?" Somewhere in the fog of panic, he hadn't noticed the crowd gathering around him, nor the strong arms guiding him to the chairs.

"Yes," he answered, scanning the concerned faces...there were nurses and lab coats, a very disbelieving Ethel, but no...no one who could possibly be... "Spencer? My son..."

"Well at least you finally remembered you have one!"

How could she possibly think he'd forgotten about his only son? Oh, right 15 years of absence...of course. "Where is he?"

"Sir, if you just calm down!"

"Don't tell me to calm down! The FBI calls me across the country to see a client who isn't injured, my sister-in-law is here. My son's here, isn't he? He's hurt." Spencer had been with the Bureau for years, this couldn't be the first time he'd be injured, but it was the first time he had gotten a call...a notification. "It's bad, isn't it?" This was a notification - a family notification. He'd known for years this was a possibility, but somehow he'd never thought...

"Mr. Reid, breathe..."

"Hello! Somebody help us!" Little Spencer Reid hollered into the howling wind. This wasn't funny anymore. Gone were the hours of snowmen and hot cocoa. Ever since he'd read about snow from the 105 degree heat of a Vegas summer, he'd been curious...now he never wanted to see snow again! He hated it.

He felt David's hand tighten his grip, promising not to let go. What did it matter? They were just two lost kids. What they really needed was...

"Spencer, look who's here!" David actually sounded...excited?

Uncle Danny! Finally...

"Spencer!"

No, not Uncle Danny..."DADDY!"

"I'm so sorry!" Spencer didn't know why Daddy was sorry, he didn't even care. All he knew was that he was safe. Safe in his father's arms at last.