A Voice Cries Out

Chapter 21

Reid was reluctant to leave the hospital. Even knowing that the medical staff had no plans to lighten William's medically-induced coma, even knowing that there was no chance he would be able to speak with his father, he couldn't bring himself to go. To his own great surprise, there was something deep inside that stayed him.

Maybe they won't let him wake up. Maybe he can't talk to you. But that doesn't mean he can't die. Do you really want to remember that you walked out on the last moments you could possibly have had together?

Reid tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. Just about a week ago, he'd been content to live a life without any trace of William Reid in it. Now, faced with just that, he couldn't bring himself to let go. He was surprised at his mind's use of those very words.

'Let go'. As if I've been holding on to him all this time. As if there was something….or someone…..to hold on to. It's ridiculous. I left him in my past, just like he left me. I haven't been holding on, have I?

Knowing, on some level, that even anger and resentment were ways of not letting the past go. But then he had another insight.

Maybe it's not me who's been holding on. He's been sending us flowers and cards for a couple of years now. Maybe he's holding on. Maybe that's why I'm having so much trouble letting go. Because he won't.

The thought precipitated an intricate examination of the last decade and a half of his life, as Reid tried to identify exactly when the point of reconnection might have been. The point at which his father had decided he wanted to reattach himself to his son.

Was it when we investigated Riley? But he didn't even try to reach out to me after that.

Ever since that awful conversation in the police lounge, Reid had tried to drive any trace of it from his mind. It was the only time in memory when his mother and father had come to him as a unified front, and then only to tell him that he'd falsely accused his father of murder, that the man he reviled had only been trying to protect Diana. But that wasn't what made the memory so difficult for him. What repulsed Reid, ever after, was how he'd responded to William's use of the situation to explain his abandonment of them. How, so many years later, the son had still so plaintively spoken to the father. 'But you could have come back. We could have started over.' As though the adult Spencer was still begging, still beseeching on the part of his younger self.

I fell right back into the child role, with both of my parents sitting beside me. Lapping it up, like some stupid abused puppy that keeps going back for more. How pathetic!

He'd been disgusted with himself, both for making the false accusation and for how he'd reacted to it. His father hadn't exactly jumped at the chance for reunification, had he? He'd simply responded with another excuse as to how his sick wife and genius son were all too much for him.

Afterwards, the long ride home on the commercial jet had given Reid plenty of time to sulk. From his seat across the aisle, David Rossi had read Reid's expression and known the young man was berating himself. At one point, when Reid had gotten up to stretch his legs, Rossi had followed him to the back of the cabin.

"Makes you appreciate the BAU jet, doesn't it?" Opening with small talk.

"Yeah."

"You going to the hospital when we land?"

For a moment, Reid had been confused. Hospital? Mental hospital? It was all that had been on his mind.

"To see the new little Jareau…..or LaMontagne, or whatever they're calling him?"

Reid refrained from openly face-palming. JJ! Nice going, Reid. Your best friend has a baby and you forget all about it. Another fault to add to his list.

"Oh, yeah. I'll stop by on my way home."

"You give her my love, all right? I've got another obligation tonight."

When Reid didn't respond, Rossi realized the younger man had already disappeared back into his dark thoughts. Time to pull you out, my friend.

"You know, you look an awful lot like your mom. She must have been quite beautiful when she was young."

Reid just squinted at him. Those days, Diana's face almost always wore a slight sneer, a gift of her illness.

"She was. At least, I thought so. But not many people can see that. Not anymore."

"All it takes is the right set of eyes, Spencer. Some of us have them, and some of us don't."

It came over him quickly, the realization that they were in a significant conversation. Something like a father-and–son talk. The kind he'd never had with William, and the kind that had been so stilted when he'd had them with Gideon.

"You're talking about my dad."

Rossi shrugged his nonchalance, knowing instinctively to keep the conversation casual.

"Him. Others. He may not have been able to see it, Spencer…..the gift that was his wife and son. But it doesn't mean the gift didn't exist. It doesn't say anything about you. Nor your mom. You understand?"

He waited until he saw his young colleague nod, ever so slightly. "He may never be able to see it. And that will be his loss. Or, maybe one day, he'll see it exactly, and know what he walked away from. And that may be his undoing."

Reid heard the low chord of sympathy in Rossi's voice. The sound of sorrow shared. And he wondered, for the first time…but not the last….if there wasn't a lot more to know about David Rossi than could be learned from his books.

Now, sitting in the hospital conference room, revisiting that prior time in his life yet again, Reid couldn't help but wonder if there was something of that yearning child left in him. Something that might always be there wondering, waiting, wishing…..but, for what?

It's not like he can make it up to me, can he? It's not like I'll ever go to him for parenting advice. I can't imagine we have anything in common. But that thought gave him pause. His visit to his father's home, the bookshelves that he'd sent his colleagues to scour again….the books, the authors. Maybe there is a connection. Maybe that's why. Maybe I'm just trying to really know where I come from. What goes into making me 'me'.

His reverie was interrupted when his wife returned to the room.

"The nurses aren't too fond of the cafeteria food. They sent me down the block. Hope you're hungry. I got us the five-dollar-foot-long, but I've only got about three inches in me."

He gave her a weak half-smile. "Thanks. But I don't think…"

"Spence, you have to eat. You haven't had a thing since breakfast, have you?"

"I'm just not that hungry, JJ. You go ahead, I'm fine."

She knew how to get him. "Then I'm fine too."

"But….oh, all right. Give me half."

Smiling, she did as he asked. As they started in on their sandwiches, JJ launched a conversation about the kids, bringing up funny stories, wondering when they should move Rosie out of her crib, whether Henry would play baseball again in the spring…..anything to keep her husband's mind occupied. When she was satisfied with what he'd eaten, she sat back and sighed.

"That was good. I was hungrier than I thought."

He looked down at his empty plate. "Guess I was, too."

"And now, we have our 'after-dinner entertainment'."

To his quizzical look, she responded, "I asked the nurses if we could use the computer in here. It's almost nine back home."

Immediately, Reid's lips curved upward as he followed his wife over to the monitor. "For once, I hope they didn't go to bed on time."

JJ laughed. "When have they ever gone to bed on time?"

Henry was particularly talented at prolonging the process, and Rosie was already beginning to look like his protégé in that regard.

A couple of short beeps later, the webcam in DC picked up a blonde head, and as the pixels resolved, they could see Sandy in front of the camera.

"Hello?"

"Mom! You figured out how to work it!"

Sandy smiled. "I had Henry give me lessons. In addition to this, I am now also a master at mine-something-or-other, and web-something or other. And Miss Rosie and I can whip up a mean cupcake on our computer screen."

JJ was shocked. "Mom...they've got you playing computer games? How?" Knowing her mother was a major proponent of kids using their imagination.

"Honey, it's been snowing here for the past 36 hours. We're up to about fifteen inches. I couldn't get them out of the house, and I was desperate."

The pair in Nevada shared a look. They'd been so distracted that they hadn't even paid attention to the weather back home.

"Are you guys all right? Do you have enough food?"

"We're fine. The snow's let up now, and the plows are starting to come through. We should be able to get out by tomorrow morning."

"Mom, don't let Dad shovel, okay? It's not good for his heart." Remembering that Charles had suffered an arrhythmia a few years before.

"Not to worry. We've already been approached by a couple of enterprising kids from down the street. They'll have us cleaned up in an hour or two."

Reid cleared his throat. "Mom…." Stopping at the word. It had taken him a while to get used to calling Sandy 'Mom', but he'd done it. Still, recent events had brought his mother to the forefront of his mind, and now it seemed strange to use the name for someone other than Diana. But he didn't want to hurt Sandy's feelings. "….. are the kids still up?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Spencer. They went down about an hour ago. I think they were just so bored, they went to bed early. But, if you want, I can get them up for you."

"Oh, no, don't do that. Let them sleep. It's just…."

Sandy smiled back at him. "It's just that you miss them like crazy, don't you?" One of the things she loved about her son-in-law was his love for her grandchildren.

"Well….yeah."

JJ broke in. "Spence is right, Mom. Let them sleep. You and Dad could probably use the break. Is he there, by the way?"

"He's pretending to read the paper, but I know his eyes are closed behind it."

JJ smiled again. "Let the big kid sleep too, then. If he wakes up, maybe he can give me a call."

"Okay, Sweetheart. So, is there any news?"

They filled Sandy in on the finding of William, and his condition.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so sorry! Happy that you found him, of course, but….oh, Honey, I'm so sorry. Is there anything we can do?" Wishing Henry could teach her how to hug through the computer.

"Thanks, but we're okay here. The doctors are 'cautiously optimistic'. They think they'll have a better idea by some time tomorrow."

"Then I'll start praying right now. You two, please try to get some rest. I know it's hard, but…you know.."

JJ blew a kiss at her mother. "We know. And we will. Good night, Mom. Love you."

"I love you too, Sweetheart. And you too, Spencer."

He smiled back. "Me too."

Two hours later, Reid shuffled back from his latest five minute bedside vigil and found JJ on the phone with Morgan. She waved Reid over as she put the call on speaker.

"Nowhere?"

"We looked in every one of the Asimov books, like Reid said. Nothing."

Reid's brow furrowed. He'd been certain, absolutely positive, that his father would have hidden away evidence of Daniel's discovery inside one of the books of his favorite science fiction author.

"All of them, Morgan? You went through every Asimov book?"

"Kid, we went through every book in his 'science section', Asimov or not. By the way….who organizes their own library by subject matter?"

It was so second nature to Reid that he hadn't even noticed it. But it was true. William's books had been shelved alphabetically by the author's last name, but only within topic areas. His fiction separated from non-fiction, mystery separated from science fiction, and so on. Briefly, Reid flashed on yet another similarity between father and son, and wondered what else was so ingrained in him that he hadn't been able to see it.

A flash of insight interrupted the thought. "Wait, that might be it! Morgan, is there a poetry section?"

"Poetry? Hey, Princess….is there a poetry section?"

As incongruous as it was with the situation, Reid and JJ shared a smile at hearing that. They knew Morgan was hoping Emily would recognize a book of poetry, certain he wouldn't be able to do it himself.

Then they heard, "She says there is."

"Okay. Look for Milton. Is there a copy of 'Paradise Lost'?"

"Prentiss says there are two copies."

"Is one of them 'Asimov's Guide to Paradise Lost'?"

They heard Emily's hushed, "My God!" in the background, and then Morgan's voice again.

"Kid, you're a genius! Oh, that's right…..you are a genius! It's there….looks like some drawings…diagrams, really….and about twenty or so typed pages. It's got your uncle's name on the top….and his signature at the end. I think this is what you're looking for, Kid."

Reid's heart pounded in excitement. "I know it's late, but….can you bring it here? Can I see it?"

"We'll be there in about forty minutes. Good thinking, Reid."

"Thanks."

As she closed the call, JJ caught her husband's eyes. There was a glint in them that she hadn't seen in a long while.

"One step closer, right?" She moved in and wrapped her arms around him, feeling the nod of his head against hers.

"One step closer." He pulled her in, leaning his chin atop her head. It was the position that always made him feel like he'd gained a second spine, and a second heart. That they should belong to the strongest, most determined woman he knew was something that always brought him renewed strength of spirit…..something he sorely needed this night.

After a long embrace, JJ pulled him over to the window. Its deep sill offered the only long surface in the room, save the table or the floor. She perched on one end and patted the space beside her.

"Come and lie down for a little bit. It's been a long day, and it will probably be a long night. C'mon, Spence. Here, you can lay your head in my lap."

He started to protest, pointing out that she'd been up just as long as he had, that she'd already told him she wasn't leaving the hospital without him, that Morgan and Emily would be arriving soon.

"Just for a few minutes, Spence. Come on. You don't even have to close your eyes. Just let your body rest."

The same determination that so often brought him strength was also sometimes his undoing. From long experience, Reid knew when to concede the fight. He sat a little apart from her, and laid his long frame out on the window sill, his head pillowed in her lap. When she started playing with his hair, his eyes closed and he felt himself starting to drift. It seemed only seconds later when a voice intruded on his dreamless state.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, nice set up you've got going here."

Forgetting where he was, Reid started to roll, and had to catch himself before he fell from the window sill. Despite the situation, Emily couldn't restrain a snort. Reid's long legs, and his awkward predicament, made him look like a newborn foal trying to get his feet under him.

"You all right there, Reid?"

"Fine," he insisted, once he'd gotten himself upright. From the corner of his eye, he noticed his wife suppressing a grin. "Told you," he whispered.

Morgan crossed the room and placed a book into Reid's hands. "This is what we found. We brought the whole thing, in case there was something important about exactly where he put it."

Taking the volume from his friend, Reid ran his hands over the cover, and then over the spine, as though caressing it. Seemingly always attuned to his subtleties, Emily asked, "Does the book mean something to you? Is it special?"

He looked lost in memory, but Reid answered her. "It was their 'together' book. It was the one they both loved. Mom, because it was Milton. And Dad, because it was Asimov. It's the only thing I can remember both of them reading to me."

JJ bit her lips to withhold what she wanted to say, but dare not. And then she almost kissed Emily when she heard the words from her friend's mouth.

"Do you think he put it there because he knew you would remember that? That he knew the book was important to all three of you?"

Morgan built on that. "It's got to mean something that your dad kept it, right?"

JJ saw the turmoil returning to her husband's face, and understood it exactly. He'd been so deeply hurt by his father's abandonment of them, and so righteous in his anger. Now, each indication that William might still have had feelings for Diana...the flowers, the book...was, effectively, a challenge to that anger.

Last year, he'd broken down. He'd battled mightily with his feelings about William, and his reflex rejection of his father's meager attempts to reach out. Reid's own experience as a father had taught him how precarious the role could be, and he couldn't ignore the fact that William had felt that uncertainty as well. Acknowledging the human frailty of his father, Reid had forgiven him…..in his heart, where the forgiveness could lead to his own healing. But he'd not forgotten, nor had he told William, let alone reconciled with the man.

Now, these small revelations of William's continued caring about Diana kept coming at him as pieces of shrapnel piercing what he'd thought was well-proven body armor. He didn't know what to do with it, and he didn't know how to stop the attack.

JJ laid a supportive arm across her husband's back as she leaned in to look at what he held in his hands.

"Let's see the file," partly curious, partly wanting to change the subject.

Reid slowly flipped the pages of the book until the file showed itself. He handled the papers gently as he put the book aside. The rest watched as he read rapidly through the text, pausing occasionally to look at a series of diagrams drawn on several separate pages. When he was done, he looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring anxiously at him.

"Well?" Emily didn't have the patience to wait him out.

"It's my Uncle Daniel's thesis….basically, it's a design plan for a way to concentrate sound waves. I'd have to do a little reading to be sure, but it definitely sounds like it could be the basis for the technique for lithotripsy."

"So, you think Albrecht might have stolen the paper from your uncle?"

Reid shook his head. "This is an original. It was done on a typewriter. Albrecht might have had a copy, I guess. They've been around long enough."

Then JJ noticed something. "Spence, look! On the cover page. Look who he was submitting it to!"

He'd gone right past it, wanting to get into the body of the paper. Now he noticed what had caught JJ's attention. The title page read: "A Method of Sound Wave Concentration: Harnessing the Energy of Sound", by Daniel Reid, submitted on July 9, 1985 to Professor Claus Albrecht, Departments of Physics and Astronomy, University of Nevada at Las Vegas".

"July 9?" echoed Emily. "What was the date of your uncle's death?"

"He was found on July 11, but they estimated he'd been dead a few days." Reid knew precisely where she was going, because he'd already gotten there. "Albrecht didn't need the paper. Uncle Daniel had been working in his lab, of course Albrecht knew what my uncle was doing. He'd probably been consulting with him all along."

"Whoa, Pretty Boy. If your uncle was working under Albrecht, doesn't the work product kind of belong to the professor? Maybe we're barking up the wrong tree here."

Reid was adamant. He'd had too much personal experience in the matter. "That's not how it works. Most of the labs are staffed by graduate assistants. The full professors are barely there-and especially if they're only days away from retirement, like Albrecht. No, it's far more likely that Albrecht had heard what was going on in the lab, and saw the potential in it."

"So you think he killed your uncle before the paper could be submitted….and then wrote it up himself, as his own discovery?" Doubt was evident in Emily's tone.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking."

The others may not have been on board with Reid, but JJ was. "Spence, how do you think your father found it?"

Morgan was willing to play along. "More to the point, when do you think your father found it? Do you think he was holding onto it all these years?"

The son could only shake his head and shrug his shoulders. "I haven't a clue. I can only hope he'll be able to wake up and tell me."

With so many questions still in play about the significance of Daniel Reid's paper, they couldn't be sure there was any connection at all with their case. Until William was able to speak, that part of the investigation would have to be placed on hold.

Promising 'good thoughts and prayers' for his father, the two older profilers bid Reid and JJ good night and headed back to the hotel. The younger pair spent a restless seven hours alternating positions on the conference room window sill, neither getting more than a few catnaps' worth of rest. By six the following morning, they gave up on sleep altogether and noticed a renewed bustling in the hallway outside.

Reid was about to go in search of coffee when there was a perfunctory knock, and the door opened to reveal a nurse.

"Dr. Reid? Dr. Casagrande asked me to get you. Your father was so stable overnight that Dr. Casagrande thought he might lighten his meds this morning, before rounds."

"What does that mean?" interjected JJ.

"It means they're trying to wake him up," explained her husband.

"Not trying, Dr. Reid," corrected the nurse. "He's awake."