So I have added in some text from Season 11 Episode 18 as a memory.
03/08/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 11:03 hours.
Spencer felt as though his entire body had been engulfed in flames. Sweat trickled down the back of his hospital gown. He gritted his teeth as he feverishly tried to manoeuvre his legs over the side of the bed. Bile crept up his throat at the sight of the bloodied dressing covering the gaping hole in his leg, and at the sheer agony that swept through him. With a shaking hand, he plucked the EKG electrodes of his chest, disconnected the IV and tugged the oxygen cannula over his head. The EKG let out a high pitched whine. Spencer grasped his head, the sound of the machine piercing through his skull. Swallowing down the bile, he shuffled forward until his toes brushed against the cold floor. Spencer grabbed the arm of the chair for support as he pulled himself up onto trembling legs. His left leg felt like a block of concrete as he dragged himself towards the bathroom, using the walls for support. His left shoulder pinched with the use of his arm. Spencer was almost at the en suite door when his legs gave way. He could see the floor rising very quickly as his legs turned to jelly beneath him. A pair of strong arms caught him just in time before he collapsed in a sweaty heap on the floor. Spencer grasped the arms tightly as if they were his entire life force as they pulled him back up to his feet.
"Where were you trying to go, Reid?" Spencer slowly turned his head, hoping to reduce the spinning of the room around him, to look at his saviour. Matt cradled him, an expression of concern on his face.
"Matt? Oh... Uhmm... I need the bathroom." Matt draped Spencer's left arm around his shoulders and curled his right arm around Spencer's waist and guided him towards the toilet. Matt gently lowered Spencer down on to the cold ceramic of the toilet. Spencer sheepishly turned his face away. Matt folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.
"You're going to watch me?" asked Spencer incredulously.
"How were you planning to get back into bed? Shuffle on your ass?" Spencer scowled at the older man who chuckled at him. Spencer curled in on himself, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. A bead of sweat ran down his nose and dripped from the tip. His hair clung to his skin. Matt turned his back on the genius and gazed out of the window.
"How're you feeling, Spencer?" Spencer audibly shuddered from behind. Matt glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to the window.
"Terrible," answered Spencer softly, his voice trembling.
"Why didn't you ask for help?"
"Because I can do it."
"Uh-huh. Don't be so stubborn all your life and ask for help. There's no shame in it." Spencer gave out a sigh.
"The thing is, Matt, I spent much of my childhood taking care of my mother when my dad walked out on us. I had no help. It took until I was eighteen before I realised and acknowledged that I could no longer care for her in the way that she deserved and needed. I've always had to take care of myself, and I still do." Matt shook his head and turned back to find Spencer attempting to use the wash basin to pull himself to his feet.
"Reid. Listen to me. You need help now. We're here for you. Let us help you. It's your turn to be cared for." Tears glistened in Spencer's eyes as he turned his aching head to look at Matt. Matt noted the way he was reluctant to place his left foot on the floor and cradled his left arm. With a soft smile he moved forward and brought Spencer's right arm around his shoulders. Matt bent down and hooked his arm under Spencer's knees. He too easily gathered the doctor into a bridal carry. Spencer tightly gripped the back of Matt's blue v-neck t-shirt as he was returned to the bed and gently set down on the mattress. Matt reached over and pressed the orange button on the wall.
"Let's get you connected back up." Spencer reached for the oxygen cannula and tucked the prongs into his nostrils and hooked the tubing over his ears. Matt gave an exasperated sigh as he leaned over the young man in the bed and tightened the toggle, "You're a stubborn pain in the ass!" Spencer raised his eyebrows, his mouth gaping. Both men burst into laughter as a nurse entered the room with a gentle knock. Within minutes, Spencer was reconnected to the IV and the EKG steadily beeped.
"Thank you," said Spencer with a smile as he pulled the blankets up to his waist. Matt slumped into the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. Spencer closed his eyes and returned to the land of nod.
03/08/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 13:22 hours.
Spencer bit his bottom lip to stifle a yelp of pain as a male nurse peeled back the dressing from his leg. He twisted the blanket in his fist. It was the most pain he had ever experienced in his entire life. Tendrils of dressing clung desperately to the insides of the wound. Shame burned through Spencer's face as hot tears of agony streaked over his cheeks. The nurse gave him a small apologetic smile as he removed the pad and dropped it into an open plastic bag on the bed. The nurse soaked some gauze in sterile water and pushed it inside the wound with the tip of a gloved finger. Neither man expected a bundle of bright colours to appear in the doorway. Spencer glanced up with stinging eyes to see Penelope at the door. She carried a tray containing two take out cups and a brown paper bag. Her mouth bobbed at the sight before her.
"Oh, my god," she gasped as she sunk into the chair beside the bed and set the cups and bag on the tray table. She clasped Spencer's hand in her own as she desperately tried to pry her eyes away from the gaping wound before her. She managed to tear her eyes away and fix them on Spencer's face.
"Garcia? What're you doing here? I wasn't expecting anyone."
"I thought I'd bring my 187 lunch. Unless you've ate already."
"No, not yet. I didn't feel up to it. Nick here needed to replace the dressings on my leg and I figured that an empty stomach would be better in case I need to projectile vomit everywhere. Speaking of which... I could really use a bowl or something right now." Spencer visibly turned green and pressed a palm over his mouth, fingers digging into his cheeks. The nurse handed Penelope a kidney dish and returned to the dressing. Penelope held the dish under Spencer's chin as he emptied his stomach into it. Spencer spat into the dish to clear his mouth. Penelope set the dish to the side. Spencer lay back into his pillows. Penelope watched as Spencer squeezed his eyes shut in agony.
"Spence? Are you okay?"
"It hurts so damned much."
"Almost done," came the voice of the nurse as he carefully tucked some absorbent packing into the wound. Penelope gently squeezed Spencer's hand in silent reassurance. Once the nurse had secured the new dressing with fresh bandages from Spencer's toes to his knee, Spencer threw back his head and gasped, not realising that he had been holding his breath. Penelope brushed some of his hair back out of his face where a few strands had fallen across his eyes. The nurse gathered up his used equipment and quietly exited the room. Penelope used the remote on the bed to bring Spencer up into a seated position.
"Does that feel better, baby boy?" Spencer brought a shaking hand up to his head.
"Not yet. It will though. I guess if you refuse narcotics like me, it'll hurt more."
"Nothing will happen if you have any." Spencer shook his head.
"No. I can't risk addiction again. The pain will subside. My body will produce endorphins and naturally reduce my pain. I'll be fine."
"Do you think you can eat?" Spencer shrugged. Penelope released his hand and grabbed the bag from the table. She handed Spencer a warm croissant in a paper napkin. Spencer took a bite, crumbs falling down over his chin. Penelope giggled and used her thumb to wipe away the flakes from his stubble.
03/08/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 15:07 hours.
Spencer had a copy of Homer's Iliad open on his lap. His hair obscured his face as he traced a trembling finger down the page. His eyes darted back and forth with speed. A knock sounded at the door. Spencer glanced up to find Derek stood with a small boy on his hip. The boy sucked his thumb bashfully and snuggled into Derek's shoulder. Spencer closed his book and placed it on the table next to his take out cup. Derek's eyes wandered over to the cup and the book.
"My baby girl keeping you topped up?" Spencer nodded and reached for the cup. Derek seated himself in the chair and sat the young boy on his knee, "How are you feeling, kid?" Spencer considered his words for a moment.
"Terrible. My fever doesn't want to break. I just want to go home now. I'm sick of the sight of hospitals. They need to pump me with another dose of antibiotics beforehand. Is this-?" Derek smiled and lifted the boy onto the blankets next to Spencer. Spencer stilled. Most children ran away from him. It was something the team affectionately referred to as the 'Reid Effect'. Instead of clambering back to his father, the boy snuggled into Spencer's torso. Spencer's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Oh, Hank knows exactly who is Uncle Spencer is. I tell him all about you. I've told him that you're going to teach him all about life and chess." Spencer smiled, tears prickling his eyes. He recalled in vivid detail the day Derek announced to him Hank's birth.
Spencer felt his world crumbling around him. Part of him felt selfish for feeling the way he did. Derek quietly approached him.
"I know you hate goodbyes, kid. And change. Hey. It isn't always a bad thing." Spencer turned to face Derek. His throat bobbed with emotion.
"I just can't imagine this room without you."
"So don't. Don't think about it. Just know that I'm always by your side. I'm just a phone call away. I'm sorry I can't stay."
"I don't want you to stay. Because I know why you're leaving and I couldn't be happier for you." Spencer forced a smile. Derek pulled an envelope from his back pocket and tugged the card out from inside.
"Listen, we were gonna mail these but I wanted you to have a birth announcement first." Derek handed the card to Spencer who took it with a shaking hand. A picture of a dark-skinned baby adorned the card with the name emblazoned across it.
"Hank Spencer Morgan," read out Spencer.
"Yeah. Hank is for my pops. But Spencer is for the best little brother anybody could ever ask for." Derek grabbed the back of Spencer's neck and pulled him into a tight embrace, "I love you, kid."
"I love you," mumbled Spencer, his voice muffled by Derek's shoulder.
"So, look, uh, my little dude, he's gonna need a big brother, too. To teach him everything he knows about life. And chess."
"Hey, Hank." Hank looked up at his godfather with wide, innocent eyes. Spencer beamed at the small boy clinging to him.
"See? He loves you."
"I'm sorry I wasn't around more."
"Reid? You have nothing to apologise for. You were never meant to end up in jail. You were only trying to help your mom. You didn't do anything illegal. You were set up." Spencer gently ran his fingertips through Hank's dark hair.
"I know. I could have visited when I got out though."
"You were hardly in the headspace. What with Scratch and everything else going on. I get it. Really I do. I made sure that Hank knows who his Uncle Spencer is." Spencer tenderly kissed the top of the boy's head.
"I love you, Hank Morgan." Derek craned his neck to look on the table. Spencer crinkled his brow in confusion, "What are you looking for?"
"Jell-O." Spencer rolled his eyes in response. He had forgotten that Derek had a love of Jell-O that rivalled his own.