26/07/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 18:13 hours.

Derek knew he had to see Spencer when he received the text from JJ informing him that their brother had finally awoken from his coma. Derek's stomach churned in anticipation. JJ had explained that Spencer was very quiet since he learned about the survivors of the train crash, or particularly, the lack of survivors. Derek knew that it was going to take a lot of work to get Spencer out of his head. They had all been in this position with the genius before- Tobias Hankel, Emily's faked death, Maeve's death, Gideon's departure and death. Each occasion was more difficult than the last. Spencer was incredibly stubborn, and this coupled with his eidetic memory, made it very difficult for him to move on.

Derek approached the door to Spencer's room and curled his fingers around the cold steel door handle. He paused and closed his eyes. Derek had worked with Spencer for many years and generally knew how to deal with him, but something made him feel very uneasy. He understood that Spencer had been through hell, but he had no idea just how much prison had changed his little brother. With a slow exhale, Derek pushed open the door to the room. Spencer was partially sat up on the bed. The blanket was drawn to his waist and his hospital gown was still folded down, leaving him bare-chested. The large cannula remained in Spencer's neck, pumping pain relief into his body. Spencer stared up at the ceiling. His eyes looked dark and soulless. Derek noted the bruising extending from Spencer's chest to his hip bone. At the gentle clicking of the door closing, Spencer rolled his eyes down to observe his visitor.

"Hey there, pretty boy. How are you feeling?" asked Derek as he took a seat next to the bed. Spencer gazed blankly back up at the ceiling.

"Fine." Derek shook his head and wrapped his hand around Spencer's. Spencer tore his hand away.

"Alright, don't come that one with me, Reid. Spencer Reid's 'fine' means that he is anything but. Spill." Spencer laughed darkly.

"How do you think I'm feeling, Derek?" Derek bristled at being referred to by his first name. Spencer never referred to people by their first name unless it was bad. Derek sat back in the chair and folded his arms over his chest.

"I think you're experiencing survivor's guilt and you're in pain and instead of talking about it, you're shutting yourself away like you always do." Derek watched as Spencer's Adam's apple bobbed, desperately trying to choke back tears.

"Don't profile me, Derek."

"You asked, kid. Listen, I know you feel bad about what happened, and I get it, but you survived because you're strong. I know you've been through a lot-" Spencer snapped his head sideways, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You have no idea what I've been through! Don't you dare sit there and try to say you understand, because you don't." Spencer's heart rate crept up, increasing the bleeping of the machine.

"Reid, you need to calm down. I'm not even gonna pretend to know what it was like being banged up for three months, or even how you survived it-"

"You wanna know how I survived it, Derek? I poisoned the cocaine supply being pushed through the prison. And you know what? I liked it. I liked watching those men bleed out. When my identity as a federal agent was leaked out, I stabbed myself in the leg and framed someone else for it just so I could get thrown into solitary. Guess what, Derek? I would do it again. I choked out a pregnant woman because she kidnapped my mother. When I was doing my firearm test to be reinstated, I shot the target so many times in the head the instructor said I shredded it like taco cheese. I didn't even bat an eyelid. You know why? Because it felt good." Spencer was visibly shaking, tears streaking his cheeks. His voice hitched, "But knowing that a piece of shit like me survived that train crash, when all of those innocent people died... I can't..." Within a split second, Spencer's furious tirade turned to heart-breaking tears. Spencer buried his head into his free hand and howled, his shoulders shaking with each wracked sob. The heart rate monitor continued to rise. Derek cautiously reached forward and rested a hand on Spencer's shoulder. The broken genius barely registered the hand on him.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, Reid. I'd be lying if I said I was surprised that prison changed you. Hell, it would change anyone. You did what you had to do to survive. There was nothing you could do to change the situation on the train. God obviously has other plans for you, kid."

"Oh, don't give me the religious sermon, Derek! I died on the table and I died again in here! I'm a monster and I should be dead!" Spencer tightly wrapped his long fingers around Derek's wrist. Tears continued to fall and the whites of his eyes were red.

"Reid, let go," Spencer's grip tightened, "Dammit, Spencer! Let go!" Derek dug his fingers underneath the deathly grip of the genius and pried his fingers away. Spencer's chest heaved as he wheezed, his hazel eyes fixed on the dark-skinned man before him. An alarm sounded. Spencer's heart rate had reached 180. "Reid, you need to calm down."

"And you need to leave," responded Spencer in a low, dangerous voice. Goosebumps crept up on Derek's skin. He had never seen the young man behave in such a manner and it was incredibly unsettling. Dr Harper and a nurse barrelled into the room and pushed Spencer back into the pillows. He fought against them with all of his waning strength. Derek slid himself out of the chair and slowly backed away, his dark eyes fixed on the man in the bed who wrestled the staff. His wrist ached.

"Dr Reid! You need to calm down this instant otherwise you're going to have a heart attack!"

"Let me have a heart attack. Let me die." Dr Harper gave a silent nod to the nurse who produced a syringe from her pocket. Spencer glared at her, "Don't you dare." Dr Harper pinned Spencer's good hand down to the bed as the nurse clicked the syringe into the cannula in his neck. Spencer writhed in the bed to escape the hold of the doctor. Once the syringe had been expended of its contents, the nurse pulled a padded cuff through the bedrail and secured it around Spencer's free hand that was trapped between the doctor's calloused palm and the mattress. Spencer's eyelids fluttered and his speech was slurred as he tugged weakly at the cuff.

"Don't you dare... Don't you... Dare... Don't..." Spencer's eyes closed and his head fell limply against the pillow, his mouth agape. His eyebrows were knotted in sorrow and his face was reddened from his tears. Dr Harper silenced the monitor.

"I want him on twenty four hour suicide watch." The nurse nodded silently and jotted some observations down on the chart clipped to the end of Spencer's bed. Derek's mouth bobbed, tears streaking his own face. He had expected Spencer to feel guilty, and perhaps angry, but not to the extent that wanted to die. Derek crept out of the room and tugged his cell phone out of his pocket.

Hey, JJ. I've just been to see Reid. It's bad. I think we all need to talk face to face. Derek. Derek pushed his phone back into his pocket and brushed the tears away from his face as he made his way out of the unit.