Reasonable Doubt

by manwathiel elensar

When Reid starts behaving strangely, the team expect the worst - he's losing his mind. But is that all there is to it? And will the team spot the the warning signs before it's too late? No slash. Please R&R! Warnings: Non-con, Abuse, violence.

22. Chapter 22

Firstly, I am soooo sorry for the lack of update over the last MONTH eek! That's bad! But this chapter has been the bane of my life for the last 4 weeks. It has been incredibly difficult to write, mostly due to the lack of action within the chapter and the sheer amount of emotions flying around. This chapter is 36 pages long. I don't know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing. Over the last two days I have written 16 pages and I just hope they have done the whole situation justice. It's not a particularly satisfying chapter to post as everything is still so unresolved! So there is a good chance that this chapter is just far too dialogue heavy! If this is the case, please tell me! Also, I'm a little confused about where I left this chapter, but it had to be done, as I couldn't find a natural break and it may well have gone on for all eternity. A bit like this A/N! But thank you so much for your patience and your AMAZING reviews! I just hope this chapter is worth the wait! ENJOY! :)

Morgan stirred out of his sleep, he had fallen asleep many hours ago in the not-so-comfortable chair next to Reid's bed. Morgan shifted in the chair, trying to find a more agreeable position. He rubbed his eyes as he did so, feeling incredibly tired. As much as his eyelids complained, he opened them to check on the young man in the bed next to him. Just to make sure he was still asleep as he had been earlier. Morgan jumped in shock, finding the shape in front of him not lay down, but bolt upright in bed. He took a few moments for his vision to clear, allowing the shadowy figure to come into focus. Reid was sat, his back straight and stiff as a plank, just staring at the wall. Morgan was about to swear, shaking off the shock that had filled him only a few moments before. But he stopped in his tracks, an eerie feeling filling him, as his friend sat there as still as stone.

He couldn't explain why, but he felt creeped out and nervous. Perhaps it was because he couldn't see his friend's face. He leaned forward slowly, holding his breath as he did so, his eyes wide in anticipation and slight fear. Reid almost looked unearthly in a strange glow, his white gown tinged a green colour in the hospital night lights. His hair was untidy and unclean, but it was the lack of movement that scared Morgan most. The young man was completely still, not even his chest looked as though it was moving. Morgan was very tense and felt his skin clamming up slightly. He finally shifted far enough up to be able to lean across and see Reid's face. His heart almost skipped a beat as he did so. He moved silently around his friend, finally seeing his face. Morgan felt like his stomach dropped out of his body.

Reid's face was pale, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his eyes stared at nothing. His eyes didn't have that troubled look to them though, as if lost in a nightmare. Instead, they had the appearance of glass. They were wide and completely expressionless, like a doll. In fact, that was the expression that had taken over all of his face. That of a doll. A shiver ran down Morgan's spine, the look on Reid's face was really scary. And he didn't mind admitting that.

Morgan opened his mouth to speak to the young man, but he couldn't find the words to say. He didn't dare touch him either. His appearance was just too strange. He finally managed to whisper out his name.

"Reid...?" Morgan asked, tentatively. When the man didn't even flinch, Morgan leaned a little closer and tried again. "Reid?" He asked, a little stronger.

This time Reid seemed to respond. His eyes never changed expression, in fact, his face didn't even twitch. But his head turned, slowly and mechanically round to face Morgan. His eyes still staring, his head only stopping turning when his eyes came to rest on Morgan's face. Morgan swallowed as he felt his heart in his throat. "Reid?" He asked, leaning a little closer, his voice shaking nervously as he tried to gain recognition from his friend.

When Reid's glassy eyes showed no sign of movement, Morgan tentatively reached out. His eyes had a certain look of horror about them, his mouth was dropped open in fear as he went to touch his friend. Morgan's hand reached Reid's bandaged arm and his palm landed on a bare bit of skin, somewhere Morgan knew was unharmed.

Suddenly, images painfully flashed through his mind. Morgan grabbed his head, trying to relieve the apparent pain they were causing.

Reid tied to the bed. Reid hitting the mattress in desperation. Reid hitting Jason in desperation. Jason hitting Reid over and over, getting him up onto his feet to knock him down again. Reid being handcuffed to the side of the bed and pushed to arousal. Jason strapping Reid to the bed and climbing on top of him. Reid's cries and pleads as Jason carried on regardless.

The images were coming thick and fast and Morgan couldn't stop them, they were invading his mind. "Stop it!" He cried out.

Then Reid's hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the visions. Morgan looked up, Reid's eyes were wide in horror, almost as though he was possessed, his face was incredibly close to Morgan's. He was impossibly pale and the darkness around his eyes made him almost look like a corpse.

"It's too late." Reid said, his voice not sounding like his own.

He suddenly pulled out a scalpel, cutting through the bandages into his arm.

Morgan grabbed desperately at his friend as he sliced at his flesh, but his hands had no strength. Morgan watched helplessly as his friend carved out the word FILTH. Morgan stared wide eyed and panting in shock at his friend's arm, his gaze then returned to his friend's face. Reid was covered in cuts and lacerations and his eyes were looking at Morgan, pleading, like they had been on the goodbye video. "No!" Morgan shouted at Reid as he knew his friend was slipping away. Just out of focus, a shadow stood in the corner of the room and a firm hand curled around his friend's shoulder.

Morgan woke with a startled gasp, eyes wide and sweat dripping down his face. He sat forwards in the chair straight away, looking over to the bed where he was shocked to find Reid sat, bolt upright, staring at the wall.

Morgan forgot to breathe for a good ten seconds, considering his heart was pounding so fast, that was no easy feat. Reid was still as stone, much like he had been in the dream. But the room was brighter and the colours were much more natural. Although it still didn't do his battered skin any favours.

Furrowing his brows, Morgan released his breath and leaned forwards.

"Reid?" He said gently. This time he didn't touch the young man. He didn't need to. Reid blinked away his trance and looked down, suddenly pulling the cover over his arm. A movement that did not go unnoticed by Morgan. He glanced sadly at his colleague, it was all of a sudden painfully obvious what Reid had been doing. Looking at the cuts on his arm. His young colleague's tired gaze came up to meet his.

"You were breathing weird." Reid said simply. "You were dreaming." He stated, without question.

Morgan shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah, kid... I was."

"Did you know that a study on the vividity of dreams and their relationship to our experiences and influences in daily life showed that, despite what they may think, the majority of people, whilst they might assume that a dream is particularly vivid, actually find themselves unable to recall very specific details about their dreams. In fact, the study showed that only 23.5% of the dreams recalled by the subjects were remembered in great detail and of the 170 dreams studied, as many as 52% appeared to have no source of suggestion." Reid finished with a slight smile. As he always did when he reeled off facts.

Morgan just sat staring at him. Had any of what Reid just said actually related to anything? He didn't think so. Morgan just raised his eyebrows at him.

"Right." He said, clearly displaying his lack of interest. There were other things he felt deserved more attention right now. Like the arm hidden under the sheet. Morgan leaned forward to speak to Reid, he was suddenly cut off.

"It's funny, although 52% of the dreams displayed no relation to the subjects' lives and showed no suggestive patterns, there was evidence to show that outside influences such as visual, auditory and dermal stimuli could cause what would be called a representation dream, where the body subconsciously recognises the stimulus and causes a cerebral reaction, hence a dream relating to that stimulus. In fact, as many as 87% of the dreams studied, were considered representation dreams, as opposed to 13% of presentation dreams where no physical stimuli or relationship was detected."

Morgan just kept staring at Reid. Trying to get the young man to meet his gaze, but he wouldn't. He was using his knowledge as a shield. As always.

"Reid, I don't need an in-depth knowledge of dream analysis, man." Morgan said, eyebrow slightly raised, although his face was serious.

"I thought you liked dream analysis? I got you that book, remember?"

Morgan smiled.

"Yeah, well, had I known it was going to be full of statistical gems such as that, then I would have given it back to you."

Reid furrowed his brows.

"But I already read it."

"Clearly." Morgan said dryly, with an amused expression. Morgan shifted himself again, clearly preparing to strike up a conversation with Reid. "So..." He said rising his eyebrows.

Reid furrowed his again and licked his lips nervously.

"So?" He asked, his voice climbing to a higher pitch as the nerves constricted his throat.

"Your arm." Morgan said, motioning to the arm under the bed sheet. "How is it?" He didn't know why he was asking this or where to even start. Anywhere seemed just as right as it did wrong.

Reid finally met his gaze.

"What do you mean?" A look of seemingly genuine confusion spread across his face.

"The... the scars, Reid."

"Well given that they are currently sutured and being treated for infection, I think the use of the word scar is a little premature." He said with a dry smile.

Morgan shook his head, Reid loved being pedantic. Morgan had to call them scars, as much as he didn't want to. That was always what they were going to be and the sooner that was dealt with, the better. Reid continued. "Treatment for the prevention of scars has come on in leaps and bounds over the last few years-"

"Reid." Morgan tried to interrupt.

"There are all sorts of therapies that have proven results and have ultimately made the-"

"Reid!" Morgan said strongly, pulling Reid out of his statistic influenced trance. When Reid looked vaguely irritated at the interruption, Morgan sighed and sat back. Now wasn't the time to discuss those scars. They were for much later down the line. Reid needed time to process things. As always, Reid processed first, did emotions later. If Reid needed to look at those cuts, it didn't mean he needed to talk about them.

Reid leaned back in bed finally, wincing as his punished ribs complained.

"So what was your dream about?" Reid asked directly. The question was clearly to set Morgan on edge, he could tell by the abundance of eye contact Reid was giving him at that moment, and it worked. Morgan shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat.

"Nothing." His voice came out slightly squeaky, he cleared his throat again, trying to sound stronger. "Nothing. Just uncomfortable in the chair, I think... Representation dream." Morgan said, referring to Reid's earlier statistics about dreams. He looked Reid hard in the eyes, daring him to challenge the theories he had so clearly supported only moments ago.

Reid eyed Morgan for a few moments. Frustrated that he'd used his own defense against him. He smiled lightly, trying not to look bothered about the fact that Morgan had just killed off that conversation.

Morgan was shifting again, still trying to think of the right words to say. The atmosphere was incredibly uncomfortable and awkward.

"Reid-" He started.

"Do you think I'll be allowed a cup of coffee?" Reid asked, innocently.

Morgan's eyebrow twitched at the interruption, he took a few moments to respond.

"Uh, I dunno." He said, leaning back and glancing to the door. He didn't really want to leave to go and ask.

"I don't see why I shouldn't. Recent studies have shown that despite it's bad reputation, coffee can be quite the healer, often effective in reducing the chances of developing Parkinson's disease, dementia, heart attacks, type 2 diabetes... in fact up to 92% of the-"

"I'll go and get you one." Morgan cut in brashly, standing and holding his hands up. Pushed into submission by Reid's obsession with studies.

Reid smiled at Morgan, and the dark man smiled back, shaking his head. As much as he knew Reid's current mental state was a ruse, it was nice to see him smile.

"Are you hungry?" Morgan asked.

Reid paled slightly.

"Um, no thanks." He swallowed back the sudden nausea that started creeping up his throat. "Just coffee." Morgan noticed the reaction, but didn't mention anything. Yet another point that was stored away for later.

"Okay... you be okay if I get some air?" Morgan asked gently.

Reid shot him a look.

"Morgan, I'm not going to dissolve."

Morgan gave him an amused smile.

"Okay, kid... I'll see you in a bit."

Reid just nodded a tight lipped smile as he watched his friend leave the room. As soon as the door closed the smile dropped from his face and he just stared at the wall again. Lost in his own thoughts.

---

Morgan stood outside the room, his back leaned against the door for a few moments. He ran a hand down his face, sighing. He couldn't get that dream out of his head. The look on Reid's doll-like face, the way his head turned mechanically, the sudden desperation the young man's eyes held, his white knuckles as he cut into his own arm, labelling himself 'filth'.

Morgan shook the thoughts away. He couldn't do this. Getting lost in his own distress was not going to help Reid. His younger colleague had to come first.

"Is everything alright?" Dr Marston's voice suddenly brought Morgan back to his surroundings. The doctor was stood in front of him, chart in hand.

Morgan blinked at her for a few moments, not quite taking in the question.

"Uh... yeah... just fine." Morgan said with a hint of sarcasm, rubbing his hand down his face once more.

Dr. Marston smiled slightly.

"Sorry... not the best question." Morgan waved her off dismissively. "Is he awake?" She motioned to the door, meaning Reid.

Morgan folded his arms and leaned against the door, the tiredness evident in his eyes.

"Yeah he is." Morgan sighed, making no effort to hide his exhaustion.

"How is he this morning?"

"Avoidant." Morgan said simply, shaking his head. "He's doing everything to avoid talking about it."

Dr. Marston nodded in understanding.

"Well that's hardly surprising... I don't think I would want to talk about it... Would you?" Dr. Marston added thoughtfully.

Morgan furrowed his brows. No. He hadn't talked about it. Not for a long time.

He just mumbled some incomprehensible reply.

"Are you going somewhere?" Dr. Marston asked, sensing that the conversation had reached uncomfortable ground.

"Oh, just going for coffee. On request... He is allowed coffee, right?"

Dr. Marston broke out into a small laugh.

"Of course he is. Whatever he wants!"

Morgan shot her a warning look.

"Don't tell him that, the hospital's coffee supply will run out within the hour." He said half-jokingly.

"Oh I see... No wonder he's so slim." She remarked, looking down at her chart. "Well, if you wouldn't mind taking your time... I need to have a word with him about his treatment."

Morgan nodded in understanding. He was planning for some fresh air anyway, so this gave him the excuse he needed to take longer than he felt appropriate.

"No problem."

"Say, about half an hour?" She glanced at her watch. Morgan did the same.

"I'll be back then." He said with a small smile. Then turned and left the ward.

---

A soft knock sounded from Reid's hospital door, pulling him out of his thoughts. Although it made him jump slightly, he was thankful for it. He could feel his mind being pulled down into some sort of flashback. His heart rate had rapidly increased and he was finding it increasingly difficult to rid his mind of the painful memories.

His tired eyes looked to the door and he cleared his throat.

"Come in." He said softly.

Dr. Marston poked her head around the door.

"Good morning, Dr. Reid." She smiled brightly. "How are you today?"

He gave a tight lipped smile back and nodded his head awkwardly.

"Fine." He said simply, then remembered his manners. "How are you?"

"Aside from dying for some breakfast, I'm not so bad!" She said cheerfully, but not so cheerfully as to annoy him. "May I?" She gestured to the chair next to the bed. Reid nodded, watching her curiously. "I would like to speak to you about your treatment options, Dr. Reid."

"Okay." He said quietly.

"I know this was discussed with you after surgery, so I'm assuming you know the plan as far as medical treatment is concerned?"

Reid nodded again. He wasn't feeling very talkative.

"How's your pain, Dr. Reid?" She asked, leaning forwards analysing his expression.

He was caught slightly off guard with that question.

"Um... fine." He nodded again, nervously.

"I'm surprised." She smiled slightly. "I was expecting you to be in a lot of pain."

Reid just gave another tight lipped smile. He didn't answer. He was in pain. And a lot of it.

"I can give you something for it if-"

"No!" He said quickly and abruptly.

"Are you sure? It doesn't have to be a high dosage." She reassured him.

"I said no." Reid answered, staring her straight in the eye, uncharacteristically dominant.

"Okay." She held her hands up in defence. "Well I will prescribe you Tylenol and Advil but I can't guarantee they will relieve your pain-"

"That's fine." Reid said curtly.

"Dr. Reid, I do have to make it clear to you however, that this is against my recommendation. As a doctor, it's my job to make my patients as comfortable as possible and I know for a fact you will be in a lot of pain over the next few days. It would be my recommendation for you to take a stronger analgesic-"

"I understand that Doctor." Reid said simply. "I know you're... covering your back but I don't…... need to hear it... This is my decision."

"Okay." She shrugged. A little taken a back by how forceful Reid was being. "I would also like to speak to you about the psychological evaluation." Reid huffed out a breath. He was clearly not looking forward to this. "I have arranged for a Psychologist to come and have a chat with you this afternoon."

Reid's eyes opened wide.

"This afternoon?" His voice sounded slightly panicked.

"Yes, she specialises in trauma so she has a good understanding of how you might be feeling and what you might want to discuss with her. She is really very nice." She looked at Reid's expression. "You don't look very happy about that."

"No. Talking to a... complete stranger sounds great... A real treat." He said sarcastically, folding his arms around himself.

"Many people find it helps." Dr. Marston said gently.

"Many people don't." He didn't look at her, he refused to.

"Well you don't know which category you will fall in to until you try it, do you?" She smiled, fully understanding Reid's reservations but not giving in to them. He needed this.

He just sighed, dropping his gaze to the bed. He looked exhausted. Dr. Marston softened her gaze as she looked upon her patient. She couldn't imagine what he had been through. What made it worse was that it was at the hands of another person. That sickened her. And the fact that he had been safe and then dragged back into that hell again was incomprehensible. It was hardly surprising that he had no patience.

She glanced at her chart.

"I'm going to have to take your vitals again. They've not been done for a couple of hours." She stood up, pulling the sphygmomanometer towards her and Reid.

When she reached in to take his arm, he quickly recoiled, flinching slightly. Then he shook his head with a small, nervous laugh.

"Sorry." He closed his eyes for a few moments to calm his nerves.

"It's okay," She went to take his arm, her hand hovered over his elbow. "May I?" She asked.

He nodded, lifting his arm slightly.

"Oh, what's happened here?" She asked, gesturing to the loose bandages on his arm.

He looked at her sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed. It was clear he'd taken them off.

"I, um... Sorry." He said again, quickly.

"It's perfectly natural that you would want to look." Dr. Marston said casually, wrapping the cuff around his arm. "But it will need to be re-bandaged."

As the cuff inflated, Reid kept his gaze firmly fixed on the bed sheets. He was clearly in a depressive state. This worried Dr. Marston.

"Tell me honestly," He said quietly, "will it scar?"

Dr. Marston took a deep breath and raised her gaze to look Reid straight in the eye, even if he wasn't looking at her.

"Dr. Reid... Do you think it will?"

Reid flicked his gaze up to her for a few moments, a little taken a back. They both knew he was intelligent enough to answer that question for himself.

"Scars are..." He snapped his mouth shut. This really didn't need the intellectual answer. He dropped his gaze back down again, sighing. "Yes... I know it will." He said sadly.

Dr. Marston nodded, her face serious and sympathetic.

"I'm sorry." She said gently as the blood pressure cuff finished its ministrations. "We have already tried to minimise the chances of scarring, but I'm sure you understand, the cuts are particularly deep in places."

Reid just nodded again. He was going to wear the word "MINE" like a possessive brand for the rest of his life. The only comfort he could find, is that the person he belonged to could no longer take breath. Dr. Marston reached in, removing the cuff from his arm, he felt a slight pang of irritation as the cuff was pulled from him. All this messing about was starting to make him edgy. She then leaned in to check his temperature using a tympanic thermometer. She placed it in his ear and he heard a small beep.

"Your temperature is still a little high." She mumbled a little, sensing that Reid was not up for conversation. She then reached for her stethoscope and moved towards Reid's chest. "I'll just check your-"

"Please!" Reid said quickly and angrily. "Just-" He cut himself off as he felt his anger over boiling. He took a deep breath. "Just... give me a minute." All the touching was making him incredibly tense.

Dr. Marston automatically took a step back.

"It's okay. I don't have to do this now. I can come back later."

Reid rubbed a shaky hand down his face, embarrassed by his own reaction.

"I'm sorry." He whispered again, sadly. He didn't know what else to say.

"Don't be." Dr. Marston smiled kindly. She replaced her stethoscope around her neck and picked up her chart. "I will check your chest later. I'll just go and get you the Advil and Tylenol. Is there anything else you need?"

Reid gave her a tight lipped smile and shook his head.

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute." She moved to the door and opened it, Morgan was stood on the other side.

"That was quick." He said lightly.

"Well, he's no trouble." Dr. Marston smiled casually. "Excuse me." She said, manoeuvring herself around Morgan and he stepped into the room.

Seeing Reid's troubled look, he moved in and sat next to him. Take-out coffee cups in hand.

"You alright?" He waved the coffee cup in front of his friend's face. "Reid?"

Reid blinked for a few moments then turned to relieve Morgan of the cup.

"Oh... thanks." He said gently. As Reid held the cup, Morgan noticed his hands were shaking.

"Reid, you okay, man?"

"Yeah." He sighed.

Morgan furrowed his brows.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Nothing." Reid said, taking a sip of his ridiculously strong and sweet coffee. He let out a satisfied moan after swallowing the hot liquid.

"They have a Starbucks." Morgan smiled knowingly, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Do they do deliveries?" Reid asked seriously.

Morgan examined his face for a few seconds, coming to the conclusion that Reid was joking, he shook his head and laughed slightly. Reid furrowed his brows in return.

"So, did Dr. Marston talk to you?" Morgan asked, searching Reid's face.

"Talk to me about what?" He answered quickly and quietly, as he always did when he was trying to avoid something.

"Whatever she came in to talk to you about."

"That's really none of your business." Reid snapped suddenly, he didn't dare look at Morgan.

"Okay." Morgan relented. Feeling slightly upset at the volatility that his younger friend was showing. "Sorry." He said quietly. He shifted back in his chair and stared into his coffee. He wished desperately that he knew what to say to make Reid feel better, but nothing was coming.

Reid just stared again, his eyes were angrily boring a hole in the wall. The pair sat like that for a good minute before either of them spoke. Reid sighed.

"I've got an... appointment with a Psychologist." He said miserably.

Morgan looked up, pausing for a few moments before answering, realising Reid didn't appear too pleased at the prospect.

"When for?" He raised an eyebrow.

"This afternoon."

"Oh." Morgan said, slightly surprised. "That's quick."

"Yeah." Reid said with a slight laugh.

"That's good though." Morgan said leaning forwards, trying to coax Reid into conversation.

"You think?" Reid asked incredulously.

"The sooner you start talking about it, the better." Morgan nodded encouragingly.

"What? Like you did?" Reid snapped again, meeting Morgan's gaze with a cocky smile and a piercing glare.

Morgan's heart leapt up into his throat for a moment before crashing back down again. This was the second time Reid had mentioned his experiences in a non-too-subtle manner. It was making him on edge. It didn't help that Reid was right.

"This isn't about me, Reid. I know the mistakes I've made." Morgan said calmly, his voice effectively masking his real feelings.

"You can't contradict yourself like that." Reid continued on.

"I know." Morgan said, trying to placate his friend.

"It's not fair for... you to tell me... what to do when you... didn't follow your own advice." Reid kept talking, taking deep breaths, but his words still sped up up slightly. "Besides, you're fine and... have done okay... without talking to someone... I don't see why I... should be any different. It's... not like... talking about events... that have already happened... alters anything anyway... It doesn't... change what's... been done, I can't... see the sense in it."

"I kept a lot of stuff locked up, Reid. Take it from someone who knows, it's not good for you. You have to deal with it, come to terms with it... You don't talk about it, you don't deal with it."

"So you never dealt with it?" Reid asked plainly.

"Not properly... I avoided it." Morgan shook his head.

"And look..." Reid said, gesturing to Morgan. In return, the older man looked confused. "You're still here." Reid said with a small smile. "I don't need a Psychologist." Reid said categorically.

"Reid-" Morgan tried.

"I said I don't... need a Psychologist." Reid was clearly getting angry now.

"Well I don't think you have a choice, kid. It's one of your discharge conditions." Morgan shrugged his shoulders.

Reid winced as pain lanced through his chest. His whole body was tensing, which in turn was causing him pain.

"It's up to me who I speak to." Reid snapped.

Morgan dropped his gaze, trying to bring the tension down. He couldn't have Reid hurting himself like that. He didn't speak for a good few moments, allowing Reid to take some deep breaths and calm himself slightly.

Reid closed his eyes. He suddenly felt extremely light-headed.

"You okay?" Morgan leaned forwards, noticing Reid's sudden change in demeanour. His younger colleague didn't answer. "Reid?" Reid's hands were no longer holding his coffee steady. Morgan reached in to stop it from spilling. The second Reid felt Morgan's hands on his, he nearly jumped out of his skin, ultimately spilling more coffee than if Morgan had left him alone. "Shit!" Morgan cursed, quickly placing his coffee down and automatically grabbing some tissues. Before he even registered what he was doing, his hands were taking Reid's coffee and dabbing at his gown with the dry tissue.

Reid by this point had completely frozen, his eyes wide. But Morgan was so conscious of the fact that he'd made him spill his coffee, he failed to notice.

"What are you doing?" Reid whispered so quietly that Morgan didn't even hear him. He continued dabbing furiously at the stain on Reid's gown. Suddenly Reid flipped. He hit out at Morgan catching him in the face, he was pushing and hitting out at whatever he could.

"GET OFF ME!" Reid shouted.

"Woah! Reid!... Woah!" Morgan said, taking a step back, holding his now aching nose. But Reid didn't calm down. Whoever he was fighting, it wasn't Morgan. His eyes were far away and unfocused.

"Please don't do this. Get... off me!"

"Reid!" Despite the injuries, Morgan grabbed onto one of his wrists, trying to calm him. "Reid! It's Morgan! Snap out of it, man. I'm here... you're safe!" Reid struggled with him, desperately trying to get free from the older man's grip. He was panicking so much his gown was starting to slip down his shoulders.

"Please." Reid begged sadly. Tears suddenly streaming down his face

"Reid?" Morgan tried to get Reid's unfocused eyes to see him. "It's me... Morgan!... Come back to me, kid."

But Reid was no where to be found, his mind was locked in a painful memory. Morgan ran his hand down his face. Panicking was not going to help Reid. He knew that. He'd learned enough about psychology in his years to know that flashbacks needed a gentle approach. And he'd probably just made it ten times worse. Releasing his friend's wrist, he forced himself to take a deep breath and sat himself back in the chair.

Reid's hands instantly went to grasping tightly at the bed sheets. Morgan stared softly at him, his gaze sad and sympathetic. He couldn't imagine what horrors were playing out in his friend's mind at that moment. "I'm here for you, kid." Morgan said gently. "Just remember, it's not real. You're safe... He cannot hurt you now, just listen to my voice... he cannot hurt you." Morgan kept repeating this mantra to his younger colleague, knowing that somewhere in there, Reid could hear him and was trying to fight through the memories.

This Reid, sat in front of him, was barely recognisable. His usually soft and bright eyes were haunted and confused. His skin colour was pale, marred with dark bruises, red cuts and sutures pulling uncomfortably at the flesh. But what bothered him most was the trail of reddy-purple markings travelling down from the side of his face, down his neck and onto his exposed shoulder. Marks that were usually reserved for teenagers in the first throes of passionate relationships. Seeing hickeys marking Reid's skin like that just made his experience all the more real. It almost gave Morgan a blueprint for where Jason's mouth had been. And he didn't doubt there were more. Many more.

Reid whimpered and another tear ran down his face. Morgan considered what had triggered the flashback. He had moved in too quickly, no doubt. Morgan mentally slapped himself for being so stupid. In future, he would make no sudden moves. "Reid, I know you're in there... you're safe." He continued.

Reid took in a shaking breath, he sounded as though his mind was releasing him slightly. His fingers loosened their grip on the bedsheets and his eyes then slipped closed.

"Reid?" Morgan asked softly. Reid jumped a little at the sound of his voice and his eyes shot open. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his friend.

"Oh... sorry..." Reid furrowed his brows at Morgan, the older man returned the gesture.

"Reid, you okay?"

Reid's lips twitched. Then he broke into an uncomfortable laugh.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" His cheeks blushed slightly. Morgan then raised his eyebrows, curiously.

"Reid, I think you just had a flashback..." Morgan said leadingly.

Reid smiled at him again, scoffing.

"No!"

"I think you did." Morgan said calmly but firmly.

Reid just shrugged his shoulders. Clearly the topic was not up for discussion. Reid was still trying to catch his breath from the horrific images that had invaded his mind so suddenly a few minutes ago. Threads of images were still clouding his mind, flashing up like faint projections into his vision.

It started when Morgan spilled the coffee and dabbed at his gown. The memory of Jason doing that exact same thing was too much. The next thing he knew, his mind was overpowering him, much like the man himself had done. Trapping him in a world where he had little or no control. He could hear Morgan's voice, in the very far distance. It was barely even tangible. But it was there. Perhaps that was something to hold onto.

Morgan sat back in his chair, gazing thoughtfully at his friend.

"Reid-"

A knock on the door stopped him in his tracks.

"May I come in?" Dr. Marston's voice came through the crack in the door way.

"Yes." Reid said quickly, thankful for the reprieve.

She came in, smiled at the pair and produced a cup of water and a small pot with containing four tablets.

"Two 500 milligram tablets of Tylenol and two 400 milligram tablets of Advil." She held the pot and the water out to Reid. Morgan shifted uncomfortably at the lack of narcotics in the prescription. It was clear he needed them. Reid was painfully aware of this too. His gaze flicked quickly from the tablets to Morgan then back again. He bit his lip awkwardly.

"Thanks." He mumbled, his shaking left arm taking the tablets and tipping them into his mouth. He then exchanged the pot for the cup of water, still carefully keeping his right arm shielded from Morgan's view.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Marston asked, noticing Reid's shaky demeanour. His hand was literally vibrating as the glass was lifted up to his face.

"I'd be a lot better if people stopped asking me that." Reid said quietly.

Dr. Marston shot a glance to Morgan. He just smiled non-committally.

"Okay." Dr. Marston said gently. She pulled a fresh, rolled up bandage from out of her pocket and held it up. "May I?" She gestured to the arm under the bed sheet.

"I can do it myself." Reid said quickly.

"I don't doubt it. But I will do it for you." Dr. Marston said confidently, moving to sit next to the bed. "Would you like Agent Morgan to wait outside?" She asked, glancing to his arm hidden under the sheet.

"No." Reid answered plainly.

"It's okay, Reid. I don't mind." He was very aware of how little Reid wanted to show off his injuries.

"I don't want you to do my bandages, thank you." Reid smiled politely at the doctor, but a hard coldness was dancing in his eyes.

"I'm afraid I cannot leave your arm like that, Dr. Reid. The risk of infection is too high." Dr. Marston leaned in. "It'll only take a couple of minutes, maximum." She smiled.

"Why should that matter?" He asked, not looking at her.

"Excuse me?" She looked to Morgan confused, then back to her patient.

"I have all the time in the world in here. The amount of time it takes, really bears no influence on my decision." He said in a slightly arrogant tone.

Dr. Marston was taken a back for a few moments. As was Morgan, he'd never seen Reid speak to anyone this way. He'd seen him make sniping comments once or twice, mostly in relation to his addiction. But never like this, now he was just being down right difficult. Morgan was grateful for the fact that Reid had been awarded a patient doctor. He dreaded to think what would happen at the inevitable shift change which, he realised, must be soon.

"So you just don't want me to do it?" Dr. Marston tried and failed to keep the slightly offended tone out of her voice.

Reid didn't answer.

"Reid?" Morgan leaned towards him, feeling very uncomfortable and embarrassed at this moment. He shot an apology across to the doctor.

"It's okay." Dr. Marston answered. "Dr. Reid. Would you like to do it yourself then?" She carefully placed the bandages down in his lap on top of the bed sheet. He felt like a mental patient, being cautiously given his daily medication. This must be how it felt for his mother, having people watching everything you do with a guarded and careful expression. At that moment they looked at him like he was the most unpredictable person on the planet. He would have hated to disappoint.

He picked up the bandages and threw them across the room, silently.

"Reid!" Morgan got up from his seat instantly, chasing after the material, scooping it up from the floor.

"It's okay." Dr. Marston looked quickly to Morgan. "It's alright." She turned back to Reid. "I'll leave you be - for now. I will send in a nurse in the next half hour and they will have to do it."

"Did you not hear me?" Reid said, his cold eyes landing on Dr. Marston. "I don't want them doing."

"Reid, the doctor is trying to help you." Morgan said sternly, as if talking to a child.

"You don't really want to leave your arm like that, do you?" Dr. Marston tried, gently. "If it gets infected-"

"What? It's going to look worse than it already does?" Reid asked angrily, pulling out his arm from under the sheets and displaying it like it didn't belong to him. Morgan, on seeing the arm, took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few moments. "How can it possibly get worse?"

Dr. Marston bit her lip slightly. She didn't know what to say. No answer was a right answer.

"Reid, you've gotta think of your health." Morgan said, composing himself, unable to fully draw his gaze away from the deep, angry cuts on Reid's arm. It was like looking at a horrific car accident, he didn't want to look but his eyes kept flicking to it, picking out a different detail every time.

"My health?" Reid laughed ironically. "Let it get infected!... Let the damn thing drop off!"

Dr. Marston looked to Morgan, shaking her head to stop him from arguing with his distressed colleague.

The words hung in the air for a few moments.

"Okay. Well we can review it later." She said simply, then stood moving towards the door.

"You may as well go too." Reid didn't even look at him but the comment was obviously directed at Morgan.

"What?" Morgan furrowed his brows. "Wha- Why?"

Reid didn't answer him. He just stared straight ahead, stony-faced. Anger skittered across Morgan's features and his mouth dropped open. He looked to Dr. Marston, her face was deeply concerned. She simply nodded. Telling Morgan to respect his friend's wishes. It was clear she thought Morgan wasn't going to get anywhere.

Taken aback slightly, Morgan huffed, shaking his head.

"Fine, kid." He reluctantly stood up. "But I will be back." He walked across the room moodily, looking back at Reid, hoping that he would suddenly change his mind. Or at least say something. But he didn't. Dr. Marston opened the door for him and he skulked his way out shortly followed by the female doctor who closed the door behind him.

"I can't believe him." Morgan said angrily. "What the hell is he doing?" He was pacing the corridor anxiously.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest?" Dr. Marston said carefully.

He looked at her as if she had two heads.

"Get some rest?... Did you not see what he is doing?... He's refusing medical treatment!"

"I can't say it's completely unexpected." She said nonchalantly.

Morgan furrowed his brows.

"What do you mean not 'completely unexpected'?"

"Agent Morgan, he has been through a very traumatic experience. It isn't uncommon for patients to resist people's help."

"I'm aware of that, but you expect me not to be concerned? That isn't Reid in there! He doesn't talk to people like that." He said emotionally.

"No. But you have to remember, your friend has been in a situation for the last four days where he has had little or no control over what happens to him. I'm no psychologist, but right or wrong, it seems to me like he's trying to get back some control over his life."

Morgan went silent in consideration for a few moments. That's exactly what Reid was doing. Morgan's voice was softer now.

"What am I supposed to do though? Sit back and watch?"

"What can you do Agent?" Dr. Marston questioned strongly. "If you interfere and force things upon him, you are just reinforcing his lack of control. This is obviously something he feels he needs to do, whether he understands why he is reacting in such a way or not. He needs to be allowed to go through this. Forcing him to have medical treatment when he's telling us he doesn't want it, is only going to make him feel more powerless."

Morgan sighed and suddenly felt the need to sit down. He made his way to the nearest chair and dropped into it. His head fell into his hands.

"I just don't know what to do. I want to be able to help him and he just isn't gonna let me, is he?"

Dr. Marston smiled softly and sat down next to Morgan.

"Probably not right now, no... He needs some time to get his head straight. Give him a couple of hours to just have some time to himself, things might seem a bit clearer to him then."

Morgan shook his head.

"This whole thing is such a mess... He really didn't deserve any of this." He said depressively.

"You should go home – get some rest. You need a break. How about sending someone else in later too?"

"No. I'm coming back." Morgan said quickly.

She held up her hands defensively.

"I'm just saying... It's likely that the more he gets used to you coming back, the more he will act up around you. If he sees you've not come back, then maybe he'll realise that he can't talk to you in that way."

"Or he'll just think I've abandoned him." Morgan snapped.

"I'm sure he won't think that." Dr. Marston looked at Morgan. He was fraught with worry. It wasn't healthy for him to be there any more. He needed a break. "Okay, well, consider this. These are probably going to be the hardest steps that Dr. Reid will have to take. Do you really want to be forever associated with those times?" Morgan furrowed his brows at the doctor. "If yours is the only face he sees, that is what will happen. You will become a constant reminder of the hardest time of his life. I don't think that is what you want, even if you mean well... you have a lot of good friends. Let them do their bit too." Dr. Marston spoke kindly and gently. She stood up and patted Morgan on the shoulder. "Perhaps a bit of female company wouldn't go a miss." She smiled knowingly at him and walked off down the corridor. Morgan watched her go, despite himself, a small thoughtful grin tugged at his lips. He knew who she was talking about.

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea.

He pulled out his cell phone, his fingers deftly pressing the buttons until he found the number he was looking for. He lifted the phone to his ear and waited until there was a voice on the other end.

"Baby girl, I got something I need you to do..."

---

"I hate hospitals." Prentiss moaned as she approached Garcia in the corridor leading up to Reid's room.

"I know." Garcia walked up to her friend and hugged her. "After Hotch and then... losing you... I didn't think it could get any worse." Despite her depressive state, Garcia's clothing displayed a stark contrast. She wore a bright orange top with a purple skirt, matching purple glasses and turquoise shoes. Somehow, despite the colour clashes, the outfit worked. In her own quirky style. This was exactly the sort of thing Morgan had been hoping for when he'd called her.

Prentiss sighed.

"Is JJ coming?" She asked casually.

"No. Derek didn't want her here."

"Oh?" Prentiss looked intrigued.

"Apparently she's too emotional." Garcia shrugged her shoulders.

"Erm, Garcia," Prentiss smiled. "No offence, but you are one of the most emotional people I know."

Garcia returned the smile.

"Aw, you're too sweet." She gave Prentiss a flirty nudge with her shoulder. "I think that's why he asked you too. We'd make a good team, he said."

"Well who's gonna tell JJ that she missed out on a visit? She's gonna be pissed."

"Hotch." Garcia shrugged again. "I don't know. All I want to do is go and see our baby." She turned and headed quickly towards Reid's room. Only to be stopped in her tracks by Prentiss' hand on her elbow.

"Penelope, remember what Morgan said... Slow and steady. Stay calm."

Garcia nodded, realising she was letting her excitement at seeing her friend again get the better of her. She needed to put Reid first. Regardless of what she was feeling. She had a sneaking suspicion that was why JJ hadn't been sent. As thoughtful as JJ was, she often couldn't get past her own emotions. Garcia would never forget her lack of concern over Reid's condition when he came into contact with Anthrax. JJ's thoughts were with Henry, who had been perfectly safe. Garcia could never quite get her head round that.

"You're right." Garcia said quickly. "Yes. Slow and steady." She nodded. Prentiss smiled at her.

"Come on." She moved forward and knocked gently on Reid's door.

"Excuse me!" They were stopped in their tracks by a large nurse. "May I ask who you are?" She wasn't particularly friendly.

"Oh..." Garcia was slightly taken aback by the forceful woman. Prentiss stepped forward confidently.

"Agent Emily Prentiss and Penelope Garcia of the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit. We work with Dr. Reid." She showed the woman her ID. She eyed it carefully.

"Wait here." The woman skulked over to the desk, seemingly to check something.

Garcia shot Prentiss an exasperated look, Prentiss raised an eyebrow. If this was Reid's nurse, God help him. "You can go in." The nurse said strongly. "But you mustn't stay too long. He needs his rest."

Prentiss looked at the nurse, reading something into her words. She stepped towards her, her demeanour now full of concern.

"How has he been?"

The nurse almost stared her down for a few moments, weighing up how honest she should be. She then lowered her gaze respectfully, nodding.

"Not good. Medically, he's doing fine. The antibiotics seem to be holding off any infections. But it's his mind we're concerned about. He's swinging between denial, anger and depression and not necessarily in a predictable manner. He's having severe flashbacks, which, if he has one when you are there, do NOT, under any circumstances, touch him. Call for one of us if you feel the need, but don't touch him."

"We won't." Prentiss nodded.

"If he is rude to you, don't take it personally." The nurse smiled a little, an action that looked slightly foreign on her face. "He is still clearly very distressed."

"It's okay... we study behaviour." Prentiss cut in confidently. "It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"Okay." The nurse said sceptically. She took a step aside. "Well go ahead." Garcia stared at the woman for a few moments, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. The nurse had been there to warn them and she had definitely done a good job. If Garcia had been there by herself, she probably would have thought better of the visit and left. But Prentiss stood strong. Morgan's reasoning for sending the pair was suddenly becoming very clear.

Garcia knocked gently on the door. Hearing no reply, she pushed the door to and peered round.

"Hey." She said gently, upon seeing her younger colleague propped up in bed. He was staring at the bed sheets, much like he had the last time she saw him. Reid brought a lazy gaze up to look at her. Her bright purple glasses and orange top made a refreshing change to the clinical mint colour painted all over the walls. Reid had to admit that. He gave a small, feelingless smile.

"Hey." He wasn't sure he was in the mood for Garcia. She entered the room, shuffling about on heels that were clearly a little too high for her. Prentiss then followed her in.

"Hey Reid." She said confidently. She moved straight to the bed, took off her coat and sat down in the chair next to him.

Reid nodded and smiled that small smile again.

Garcia soon followed Prentiss' lead and took root in the chair opposite, so Reid couldn't escape from either side. He suddenly felt very on display.

"How are you feeling?" Garcia asked.

"Fine." Reid answered quickly, with another smile.

"We brought you some stuff." Prentiss said smiling. She pulled out a carrier bag. "Some clothes, chocolate, books, chess board, cards..." She trailed off when she noticed Reid's lack of interest.

"Better than sitting here doing nothing." Garcia said jovially. Reid eyed her for a few moments, then sighed, giving in. He reluctantly took the bag from Prentiss, wincing as he did so. He was still in complete agony. He fished his hands through the various belongings that, before this whole situation, would have been so important to him. But now, they seemed trivial. Unnecessary in fact. Right now, playing through every permutation on a chess board was a pointless, useless task and why the hell he ever bothered doing it was a mystery to him.

He took a disinterested glance into the bag then pushed it down the bed.

"Thanks." He said half-heartedly.

Prentiss and Garcia exchanged disappointed glances. They had hoped that a few of his possessions would make him feel a little more at ease.

"Oh!" Garcia exclaimed suddenly. "I made you cake!" She quickly extracted a pink tin from her large handbag, she smiled proudly.

"Is it that bad?" Reid raised an eyebrow at her. Garcia looked back at him confused.

"What do you mean?" She asked, not knowing whether to be offended.

"Not even Hotch got cake." Reid said seriously. Almost defensively.

Garcia smiled uncomfortably.

"Well, don't tell him. But I like you a little bit more." She winked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Favouritism." Prentiss remarked, an amused tone in her voice.

"Oh yeah, of course." Reid said sharply. "That and this is worse than Hotch, right Garcia?"

She shifted awkwardly, remembering her words from the last time she had spoken to him in private. She still believed it to be true, but the words coming from Reid's mouth sounded harsh. Harsher than she'd meant them.

Prentiss shot her another glance.

"I think she just wanted to do something nice for you, Reid." Prentiss defended Garcia. "It's chocolate cake." She said, temptingly, still trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Just what I need." Reid remarked sarcastically.

Garcia looked upset. She stared down at the tin in her hands, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"I'll- um... just leave it... here." She placed it cautiously on the table next to Reid's bed.

"Reid... Garcia went to a lot of effort to make that for you." Prentiss said, not letting him get away with the seemingly childish behaviour.

Reid's hard stare came up to meet hers.

"Oh right, I'm sorry. I forgot that chocolate cake makes up for everything." He snapped. Ignoring Garcia completely.

"What?" Prentiss asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Garcia was now looking down at her hands in her lap. She knew why Reid was annoyed, possibly even better than he did. It hadn't taken long for Reid to figure out where the blame lay.

"It's okay, Emily." Garcia whispered, then rested her eyes on Reid's battered face. "I'm so sorry, Reid... I'm so sorry I didn't see it."

"See what?" Reid snapped again. He felt so angry.

"Jason." Reid flinched at the name. "I'm sorry I didn't see Jason for what he was."

"Garcia, don't do that to yourself." Prentiss said, her mouth dropping open slightly. "No one is to blame."

"No. No one is to blame Garcia. No one." Reid said dryly.

"Except Jason." Prentiss spoke commandingly.

Reid shot her a look, almost telling her to stay out of it. For a split second she felt like she was back in the aftermath of Tobias Henkel.

"Reid?" Garcia tried gently. "I'm am so, so sorry. You're right, I should have noticed."

"I didn't say that." Reid cut in abruptly.

Garcia was slightly taken a back.

"No, but..." She fumbled for her words for a few moments. "I should have seen." Prentiss rolled her eyes a little. Reid was running her round in circles and he knew it.

"You're not a profiler, Garcia." Reid said coldly. "How can you possibly understand how to recognise a sexual sadist?" The last two words were said so confidently they almost made the two ladies wince.

"Well, I know. But I worked around him. I was friends with him for two years. I should have seen!" Garcia said passionately.

Reid finally met her gaze.

"You're right." He said simply. "You should have."

Prentiss' mouth dropped open and Garcia's eyes started watering up with tears.

"Reid!" Prentiss exclaimed.

Reid just shrugged his shoulders and reached for the bag, stifling a wince. He pulled out a book and started reading. If he felt uncomfortable he didn't show it. Prentiss and Garcia watched him in fascination.

Prentiss took a deep breath, desperately trying to think of something to say.

"Pass me the chocolate cake, Garcia. If he doesn't want it, I'll have it." Prentiss said lightly, trying to bait him. It didn't work. Reid had no interest in food. The nurses found that out at lunchtime. He left his whole lunch, settling for two coffees from Starbucks. No matter how much they tried to persuade him, he simply couldn't stomach it, so chocolate cake was certainly off the menu.

Garcia bit her lip uncomfortably as the silence fell over the room once again. Prentiss opened the tin to the chocolate cake, now feeling the need purely to keep up pretences. She took out a small piece and started eating. She then reached into Reid's bag and pulled out the chess board.

"Game of chess, Garcia?" Garcia noticed Reid's interest pique slightly and for a split second his gaze lifted off the page.

She sat up taller in her seat, a little more confident.

"Yeah, sure... I'm not very good though." She said, shyly.

"That's alright. I'm nearly an expert in chess now." Prentiss said confidently, hoping once again to bait her younger colleague. "I'll help you if you need it."

Garcia pushed Reid's hospital table across the bed and they set up the board right in front of him, playing from either side.

"Who goes first?" Garcia asked.

"White." Reid cut in quickly. Not looking up from his book.

Prentiss smiled very slightly.

They played quietly for the next ten minutes, noticing Reid glancing up from time to time to survey the game. The speed at which he was reading his book had depleted slightly as his attention was shared between the two activities.

"I'm never sure how to move these things." Garcia said, like a child, pointing to a knight.

Reid bit his lip wondering whether to help. But before he could, Prentiss jumped in, picking up Garcia's knight and demonstrating the various manoeuvres Garcia and her knight could accomplish.

"What use is that?" Garcia exclaimed, looking at the odd paths the chess piece could take.

Prentiss shrugged.

"I dunno. I never hold onto mine long."

"Well if I move it here, will you just get rid of it for me?" Garcia said, picking up her knight to move it to a space where she was open to attack from Prentiss' pawns.

"No!" Reid suddenly said, dropping down his book into his lap. "Knights are an incredibly... effective playing piece... in chess." He was still struggling with his breath, which made Garcia and Prentiss sad to watch. "Particularly in the centre of... a crowded board. They are... the only piece that can actually... jump over other pieces... making it invaluable... There's a reason why the move hasn't been... changed for centuries." He tried to regain his breath, suddenly feeling incredibly embarrassed at his weakness. A pain lanced up through his chest and he gritted his teeth, sucking in some air.

"Are you okay?" Garcia quickly went to put a hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off.

"I'm fine."

"Do you need me to get a doctor?" Prentiss asked, moving to stand up.

"No." Reid said quickly. "Thanks." Trying to remember his manners. "Just need... to catch my... breath." He said, his chest wheezing.

They sat with him in silence for a good minute, as he brought his breathing back to normal. "I'm okay." He said, resting his head back onto his pillow, suddenly feeling very tired. "Carry on." He said, his voice now a lot stronger. They looked at him confused for a few moments. "Your game."

"Oh!" Garcia exclaimed. She still had her knight in her hand. "I don't want to move this now."

"You've picked it up, Garcia. You've gotta move it now, right Reid?" Prentiss looked to her colleague. He didn't answer. The smile she was sporting left her face.

"L shapes, right?" Garcia said thoughtfully. Prentiss nodded.

Garcia placed her knight down onto a square and the game started moving again. After a short while, Reid appeared to lose interest again, picking up his book.

Despite Prentiss' best efforts to tempt him into explaining the rules further, he seemed to have shut down. The two women were starting to feel quite frustrated. They didn't even want a game of chess.

"Chess goes on forever." Garcia sighed. They had been playing for nearly forty minutes now.

"The longest game ever took over eighteen hours." Prentiss said nonchalantly.

"Twenty hours and fifteen minutes, actually... Totalling two hundred and sixty-nine moves." Reid chipped in, not looking up from his book.

"Twenty hours?" Garcia opened her eyes wide. "Wow, people really have far too much time on their hands." She shook her head.

"I think we're gonna be here for twenty hours at this rate." Prentiss said dryly.

"Check mate in sixteen." Reid said, glancing up from his book.

Garcia looked at him like he was insane.

"Are you kidding?" He shook his head, his gaze fixed back on his book. "How can you tell that?"

He just shrugged.

Garcia stared at the board in confusion. Prentiss furrowed her brows, trying to see what Reid might be suggesting. Garcia moved a pawn then winced as Prentiss claimed it with her knight.

"Oh! I hate this game!" She exclaimed.

Reid placed his book down.

"Here, let me show you." He pulled the table towards him and claimed Garcia's side of the board. She smiled as he quickly made the next move. Prentiss sat back, fully engaged in the game, now she was playing against someone capable of beating her. She took longer than she wanted to make her next move, Reid quickly countered.

"Check mate in four." Reid said simply.

"What?" Prentiss looked at him in surprise.

"I had to take into account... the different playing styles... You would play differently against... Garcia."

"Oh." She said gently, nodding her head. She made her next move. Within three seconds, Reid had countered it.

"Woah." Garcia breathed out. She had never seen Reid play chess before. Quite rightly, she'd never considered herself a worthy opponent, nor did she actually have the interest.

Within two minutes, the game was finished.

"Oh well." Prentiss sighed. "The days of me beating you at this are long gone."

"You only beat me once." Reid said, picking up the book again.

"True." She said with a small smile. But Reid's attention was back on his book again.

The two women exchanged uneasy glances again. They knew they had to broach 'the subject' with him at some point. They couldn't all sit in denial.

Taking a deep breath, Garcia moved her hand to Reid's book and pulled it gently down towards the bed.

"Reid?" Prentiss said gently. "Look at me."

Reid sucked in his lips for a few moments then reluctantly looked up.

"You know you can talk to us about anything don't you?"

Reid switched his gaze between the two women.

"Yeah."

"You know can trust us, right?" Garcia asked, with a small smile.

No answer.

"Reid? You can trust us, you know that... right?" Prentiss pressed. Reid dropped his gaze to the bed, reaching for the book again.

"Can we talk about this another time."

Garcia quickly snatched the book.

"Ah, ah, ah. No you don't. We need to know that you trust us, smarty pants." She said lightly, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Her attitude was grating on him.

"Just give me the book Garcia." He said calmly.

She put it on the table out of his reach. He stared at her for a few moments.

"I don't know." He said suddenly. Prentiss and Garcia raised their eyebrows at him, looking for further explanation. "I don't know if I trust any of you."

"But Reid, in that tape you said-" Garcia was cut off.

"In that tape I thought I was going to die!" Reid snapped. "I didn't want you guys to... to feel any guilt... that doesn't mean that I..." Reid had taken his gaze away from the two women again. That was what they found most frustrating, the lack of eye contact. It was making him all the harder to read.

"That you what? Trust us?" Prentiss asked.

"I didn't say that." He said, getting frustrated.

"Reid." Garcia spoke softly. "Look, I understand why you're angry with me. I agree, I should have seen it... and I didn't."

"Garcia, no-" Prentiss tried to cut in.

"I was his friend." Garcia carried on regardless. "These guys weren't. They didn't know him."

"But they knew me!" Reid snapped, then he looked her dead in the eye. "They knew me, Garcia!"

Prentiss looked down sadly. It was true, they knew Reid. But Reid didn't realise the concerns they had for him. By knowing him as well as they did, it left him open to the natural judgements of the human mind. Rather than seeing a threat, they took his biggest insecurities and piled them up against him. Schizophrenia and drug addiction. Both of which came as automatic assumptions when they saw him struggling.

"We're so sorry, Reid... But he did his job well. You were acting completely differently. We didn't know what to make of it." Prentiss shook her head in the team's defense.

"You know what?... It doesn't matter." Reid said, brushing it off.

"Yes it does." Prentiss countered.

"No... it doesn't." Reid said moodily.

"You brought it up, so it obviously matters."

"Well I don't want to talk about it now." Reid snapped back.

"You can't just say something like that and then stop talking!" Prentiss said with a slight laugh.

"Well you had a funeral and then just walked into the BAU so it seems anything goes." Reid spoke coldly.

Prentiss' mouth dropped open.

"Don't take it personally." Garcia whispered to Prentiss, echoing the words of the nurse earlier.

Reid shot his gaze to Garcia.

"Excuse me?" Reid said, his hard eyes now burning holes into Garcia's. She suddenly felt slightly light-headed, she'd never had a confrontation with Reid before.

"I- I said... don't take it personally."

""Why?" He asked curiously.

"Because... because you don't mean it." She shifted uncomfortably when Reid didn't answer. "You've been through a trauma... you're not thinking straight." The second the words left her mouth she regretted them.

"I'm not thinking straight... Is this a bit like when I... 'wasn't thinking straight'... when I said I wasn't crazy?" He said through gritted teeth. Reid suddenly started speaking in a slightly different tone. Completely dissociated from his own voice. "You've been kidnapped, been through ….. drug addiction, you've willingly walked... yourself into dangerous situations completely ….. unarmed on numerous occasions, you've... been infected by anthrax and now you're suffering from debilitating …... headaches and are seemingly having a psychological... break down... - I'm not having a psychological break down." Reid seemingly answered himself. The other emotionless voice answered. "Perhaps not, but with a …..background like yours... it's hardly unbelievable is it? And if you were to 'apparently'... have a sudden mental break down... who would ask questions?... Surely the bureau – with a background like yours... remember – would probably find it almost... justified, their hands 'would be tied'... so to speak... Or at least that's what they would say."

Reid's eyes were now far away. Lost in memories.

"What was that?" Garcia asked, her eyes full of concern.

"I don't know. I think that must have been a discussion between him and Jason." Prentiss said, her face scrunched up in confusion.

Reid continued his detached mumbling.

"I'm sorry. I've watched this happening... for the last week and I just had... to get you out of there - "You don't care about me... you're a sadistic psychopath - ...Oh Spence."

"We can't let him do this." Prentiss said suddenly. "Reid?" She reached out to touch him.

"Emily. No!" Garcia put her hand out to stop her. "Remember what the nurse said, she said no touching."

"Okay, okay I admit... I'm a sadist. That is where I get my kicks... always has been."

"But this isn't a flashback... is it? I mean... what does a flashback look like?" She furrowed her brows.

"I don't apologise for that..." Reid was still carrying on this monotone conversation.

"I think that's what he's having... at least some form of one anyway... I wouldn't touch him." Garcia said gently.

"Then what do we do?" Prentiss asked. She was very good with human behaviour, but she had to admit, trauma was not her speciality.

"It doesn't mean I don't care about... you. I don't want to see other people... hurting you... I'm crazy about you, Spence." Reid continued.

"Talk to him... When I've had people in my group go through flashbacks, I've spoken to them and it seems to calm them."

"He seems pretty calm, Garcia."

"Trust me." Garcia said. "He's not."

Reid hands gripped the bed sheets almost on cue.

"When are you going to learn? …... Fighting will do you no good, Spencer... I've gotta give you credit, Spencer... You are full of surprises... The punch to the nose …... was a particularly nice touch."

"Reid?" Prentiss said gently. Reid closed his eyes as memories seemed to cloud his vision once again. The flashbacks were becoming more and more powerful every time.

"Reid. Listen to my voice... It's Garcia... you are safe here with us sweetie."

"Touch me again and I will give you some more." Reid's voice was seemingly emotionless, like he was reciting a list. But his face was contorted and his body was tense.

"No one can hurt you, you're here with me and Emily and we're here to look after you... listen to my voice honey... you don't have to go back there. You're safe."

"Oh! I'm sorry Spencer... That's just the funniest thing... I've ever seen - Don't mock me. I'm serious."

"Reid! Come on! Snap out of it!" Prentiss said, getting a little panicked.

"Serious?... You don't know what serious is..." Reid was clearly starting to become distressed now, it was finally reaching his voice. "Stay away from me." He whispered, his desperation was apparent.

"Emily, calm down." Garcia said, feeling very on edge. "Reid? We're still here for you sweetie, don't listen to him, he isn't there. You're here safe with us."

"Now that is how you... fight, you fucking child." The curse almost sounded foreign coming out of Reid's lips. "Stand up! Now hit me!"

Reid's hands tightened in the sheet.

"Reid?... Reid? Talk to us! Come on!" Prentiss' panic level was now starting to match Reid's. Garcia was just exasperated, she'd never had such little success at getting someone through a flashback.

"What? - Hit me!... Fucking hit me!" Reid shouted pulling at his sheets. At that moment, Emily took her hand and slapped him across the face, avoiding his injured cheekbone. Garcia immediately reprimanded her, completely in shock at her actions.

Reid stayed in the flashback for a few moments but the next second he registered the hit. He gasped loudly and pulled his injured arms up over his head. "I'm sorry!" He said desperately.

"Reid!" Prentiss tried, grabbing softly onto his left forearm. "Reid! It's Emily. You're safe." A shaky hand retracted from his face slightly and his face was scrunched up as a squinting eye surveyed the area. Almost like he was expecting another hit. "I'm sorry, Reid. You were having a flashback. I didn't know what else to do." She looked at him apologetically, then to Garcia.

"Not that." Garcia said under her breath. Then she stood, leaning over to Reid slightly. "Sweetie, you're with us in the hospital. Jason is dead. He can't hurt you again." Reid visibly relaxed at this. Garcia felt slightly proud that her voice still had a calming effect. Even if it wasn't so effective during the actual flashback.

Reid's hands were shaking. When he lowered his arms to uncover his face, he cried out loudly. All of the movement he had put his body through had obviously not done him any favours. "Oh sweetie," Garcia cooed. "Are you okay?"

Reid closed his eyes and lay back into his pillow, trying to catch his breath once again. His hands were shaking violently now. He could also feel the beginnings of a headache. He moaned slightly as a shooting pain travelled through his chest.

"What happened?" He breathed out.

"You had a flashback." Garcia said, taking one of his shaking hands into her own and rubbing it gently. Careful not to hurt his knuckles.

"No." He said, his brows furrowed.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Prentiss asked, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not having flashbacks." He said categorically.

"Erm, yes sweetie, I think you are." Garcia responded tactfully.

"You were talking to yourself, Reid. You were repeating everything you said to each other." Prentiss added.

""I'm not crazy." Reid snapped.

"Jeez, flashbacks don't mean you're crazy Reid!" Garcia smiled. "It's just your mind's way of dealing with what happened to you."

"You start seeing and hearing things…... that aren't there…... and tell me that you don't feel crazy... then I'll agree." Reid breathed out, exhausted.

"Reid... have you thought about... talking about it?" Prentiss leaned in and onto the cot side of the bed.

"About what?" He looked at her incredulously.

She scoffed slightly.

"About Jason, about what happened to you." Reid automatically pulled his gaze away, he felt like his stomach had just dropped out of his body. He was suddenly light-headed.

"There's nothing to talk about." He said quickly.

"Really." Prentiss said sceptically.

"Reid." Garcia pressed gently. "There's a reason why you're having these flashbacks... it's because you need to talk to someone, you can't keep it all bottled up inside."

"I'm not." Reid said, getting a little breathless again. He was starting to feel slightly panicked now.

"You are... you always do." Garcia said with a small smile squeezing his hand lightly..

"Just back off." Reid snapped suddenly. Then cried out in pain again.

"I think he needs some more pain meds." Prentiss said, standing up. She turned to Reid. "What are you on?"

"Tylenol..." He said through gritted teeth, arm tightly wrapped around his chest, trying to comfort his painful ribs and lungs. "And... Advil."

"Tylenol and Advil! No wonder you're in pain!" Prentiss exclaimed, immediately regretting her reaction upon remembering his 'no narcotics' rule. "I'll get a doctor." She said, standing from her chair and leaving the room quickly.

Garcia just rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and for the first time, Reid didn't feel irritated by the action. He actually found it rather soothing. He found his head leaning to one side to rest on her hand and he closed his eyes, almost in an apology for his earlier actions. The warmth emanating from Garcia was sometimes too nice to resist and he already felt guilty for the way he'd spoken to her. He didn't know why he kept saying these things. Partly because they were true, but there were many true things he'd never said to people before. He was just so angry and any target would do.

Garcia smiled at Reid's action, brought her lips to the top of his head and kissed him. She then rested her cheek on the same spot.

After around a minute of being in that position, Reid was starting to doze off slightly. He hadn't slept since he was first admitted, so sleep was fast catching up with him. The door suddenly opened, bringing both Reid and Garcia out of their reverie. Prentiss eyed the pair with a soft smile. Reid immediately sat himself up, blushing slightly at the closeness he and Garcia had been displaying.

"Dr. Reid." A male nurse walked in. He was big and burly. Certainly no Dr. Marston. "I've come to give you your pain meds." He picked up the chart.

"Um... okay," Reid smiled a little, pulling the sheet a bit further up his body. He didn't register the unconscious reaction, but Prentiss and Garcia did.

"You only had your meds two hours ago. Dosages are every four hours... Sorry." He said in a feelingless voice.

Reid closed his eyes. The Tylenol and Advil hadn't been doing anything anyway. Now with the headache starting, those meds didn't have a hope in hell of being effective. He needed something stronger... and the more his hands shook from the aftermath of the flashback, the more he wanted something stronger.

"Is there nothing else you can give him?" Garcia's soft voice asked. It was laced with concern.

"Well, there are other options. I know Dr. Marston has discussed them with you. I can ask the doctor to prescribe you some Tylenol #3, which contains codeine... Exactly how much pain are you in, Dr. Reid?" By the way he was looking at him, the nurse clearly knew that Reid had issues with being honest about his pain levels.

For a few moments, Reid was tempted to lie. To tell them everything was okay, to protect his pride and stop the pitying looks that were constantly being shot his way. But he felt so desperate. He just wanted the pain to go away, even just for ten minutes. He remembered the feeling of relaxation that he used to get from the dilaudid and even though he knew he shouldn't, he found himself hoping that he would get a similar release from a weaker narcotic. Just enough so he could stop shaking. Stop feeling. Just for a short while. Tears clouded his eyes as he was about to answer.

"A lot." His voice cracked slightly. He felt so weak.

Garcia's eyes watered up too when she looked at her colleague. She glanced up to Prentiss and a tear ran down her face. She had been desperate to cry since she'd walked into the room and seen the state he was in.

"On a scale of one to ten - one being no pain and ten being excruciating – where would you say you are?" The nurse asked. He was very matter-of-fact. The women didn't like him.

Reid wrapped his arms tightly around himself again.

"Umm... about an eight?" He said, almost as if he was checking it was okay.

"Right, I'm not sure Tylenol #3 is going to do much for you to be honest. I'll have to get a doctor."

"Wait!" Reid said quickly, panicking at the implication of narcotics. The nurse turned around questioningly. Then Reid thought better of it. "Never mind."

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute." The nurse said, leaving and closing the door behind him.

"I don't like him." Garcia said, like a moody child.

"No, I don't think much to him either." Prentiss responded. She turned to Reid. "How do you find him?"

Reid just shrugged, he really didn't want to discuss his feelings about men right now.

Prentiss continued, "he seems to know what he's talking about though."

Reid's heart was pounding in his chest. What was he doing? He was pushing himself towards being prescribed narcotics. And not necessarily because of the pain. The pain was becoming unbearable, but it was the relaxation they would bring that was most attractive. He hoped that they would stop him feeling Jason's hands crawling all over him like a relentless itch. Stop him from fidgeting with the bed sheets and wanting to cower every time a man looked upon him in his vulnerable position in the bed. He hoped they would stop him feel so angry, so irritable... so desperate to break down. The emotions were all becoming too much to cope with. Paired with the pain, he didn't think he could find the strength without some help.

The doctor didn't take long, there was a knock at the door and the nurse entered, followed by a male doctor appearing to be in his forties. Reid sighed. More men.

"Where is Dr. Marston?" Garcia asked, noticing the abundance of men on the medical staff that afternoon.

"She has finished shifts. She's not back in until tomorrow morning now. I am Dr. Wright." He shook Garcia's hand, then Prentiss', then he looked to Reid. Reid made no move to greet him, so the doctor did the same, glancing down at his chart. "So, Mr. Reid."

"Doctor." Prentiss added.

"Yes?" Questioned the doctor, looking none too pleased to be interrupted.

"Doctor Reid." Prentiss corrected him. It really irritated her when doctors clearly had no idea about their patients.

"Ah." The doctor smiled a little. "Dr. Reid... sorry... Dr. Reid. Paul here tells me that you experiencing a lot of pain." It was a question, even if it didn't sound like it.

"Umm... yes." Reid's face flushed as the doctor came closer to the bed.

"Where is your pain?"

Reid swallowed, lifting his left arm up to demonstrate.

"My chest, ribs... I have some pain in my leg too... and my arm is throbbing." He pointed to his freshly bandaged arm.

"Pain from one to ten?" The doctor asked nonchalantly.

"Eight." Reid said with less embarrassment this time.

"Right." The doctor said thoughtfully. "Your chart says no narcotics... Are you allergic?" The doctor raised an eyebrow. Reid felt as though he was on trial.

"... No..." He said nervously.

"Ah. I see." Dr. Wright looked at the chart, his brows furrowed, deep in thought. "Well, Tylenol #3 is not going to do much for you." He said plainly. "But we can try it." The doctor noticed a distinct lack of interest in Reid's face when he mentioned the weaker medication. "Or, if you like," he started carefully, "we can try you on something a little stronger. Such as Vicodin... or a very low dosage of Percocet?... It's up to you."

Garcia and Prentiss looked to each other in concern, then to Reid, nervous about his response.

Reid looked deep in disturbed thought for a good twenty seconds, he was obviously weighing up his options. But he knew he'd already made up his mind, it was more a case of finding the strength and the bravery to actually say what he was thinking.

He swallowed thickly then nodded.

"Okay... I'll try that." His voice was dry and raspy.

"Are you sure, Reid?" Garcia asked in a soft but slightly high-pitched voice.

"Yeah." He said simply.

"Okay, well I'll start you on a small dose of Vicodin, we will see how that works." He wrote on Reid's drug card and handed it to the nurse, who automatically retrieved the drug cabinet keys from his pocket. "Is there anything else, Dr. Reid?" The doctor was friendly enough, but Garcia and Prentiss still weren't keen.

Reid simply shook his head.

"I'll be back in a minute." Paul, the nurse said, following the doctor out of the room.

Prentiss and Garcia eyed each other carefully, then sat down either side of Reid. Prentiss stared hard at Garcia, trying to get her to speak first, but she had no such luck. Garcia looked back at her, slightly wide-eyed and nervous, shaking her head a little. She wasn't broaching the subject. But neither was Prentiss. They both sat back in their chairs.

Reid felt extremely uncomfortable at that moment. He knew exactly what they were thinking, because he was thinking the same thing. Did he really know what he was doing?

He really wasn't sure himself.

---

Hotch, Rossi and Morgan stood in the room where Reid had been kept the second time round. Surrounded by crime scene investigators all dressed in the same protective clothing they were currently wearing.

Rossi looked around the room.

"Welcome to Hell." He commented.

Hotch looked at him, his face creased with stress.

The bodies of Jason and Steve had been removed from the scene hours ago, as soon as the forensic work had been done. Now Hotch, Rossi and Morgan had come back to oversee the investigation.

Hotch approached once of the CSI's.

"Did you find any tapes?" He asked seriously.

"None, sir." The young man answered. "I can tell you what we have found so far though."

Hotch glanced back at the other two men, then nodded. They wanted to know as much as they could. Morbid curiosity or not.

"Okay." The young CSI continued. "On the body of the man identified as 'Jason Turner', the murder weapon was found, as you likely saw. He had been stabbed in the neck once. His body showed multiple defensive wounds, most likely inflicted by your agent. We also found two sets of fingerprints upon the knife. One obviously being Jason Turner's, they are running the prints as we speak, but we think it's quite safe to say that the other set will belong to your agent."

"He did say he'd killed him." Rossi said gently.

"Secondly, on the body identified as 'Steve' there were also multiple defensive wounds. We're not entirely sure whether these have come from your agent or Jason Turner. Skin scrapings were found under the nails of Jason Turner, but again we're not sure of the origin. These are also in the process of being tested, as are the samples taken fro your colleague. However, it did appear that at some point, Steve had sexual intercourse with someone."

"Okay, that's enough." Hotch held his hand up. "Just write it all in a report and we will look through it later."

The CSI blushed slightly. Feeling a little embarrassed.

"Certainly, sir."

The three profilers surveyed the room a little longer.

"You know the kid's right... don't you?" Morgan said matter of factly, without looking at Hotch.

"About?" Hotch said, also neglecting eye contact.

Morgan now turned to him.

"Steve..." He then dropped his gaze. "Reid told me." He shook his head in disgust. Rossi and Hotch looked to Morgan in shock. They had both suspected it, but to hear it confirmed was ten times worse.

Rossi couldn't find any words to say. There was nothing that could be said. They could call the men all the names under the sun and it still wouldn't describe the hatred that they felt at that moment.

Morgan was about to speak when his phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.

"It's Prentiss." He flipped open the phone and automatically put it on speaker phone. "Hey, you got me, Rossi and Hotch."

"Hey, it's me and Garcia." She answered. "Where are you?" She asked confused.

"We're at Steve's old house, where Reid was kept." Morgan said.

"What? What are you doing there?" Garcia asked, her voice full of concern.

"Overseeing the investigation." Rossi said simply.

"Overseeing?... Why?" Garcia's voice sounded even younger when she was confused. "There's no one you can arrest."

"No." Hotch cut in. "But as we have found out before, when they are bodies, their deaths have to be explained. Whether they are an unsub or not." He was referring back to the investigation regarding the death of George Foyet. Strauss had been the bane of his life. He was there to ensure that this time, things were different. "We're just making sure that everything is done properly." Some of the CSI's eyed him, looking slightly offended.

"Oh." Garcia answered.

"Good." Prentiss added.

"So, have you been to see him?" Morgan asked. "How is he?"

A loud sigh was heard down the other end of the phone, Morgan shot Rossi a look.

"He's all over the place." Prentiss answered honestly. "It's hard to know where you're at with him. One minute he's fine, the next he's saying nasty things, then he's getting angry and then he can just go back to normal."

"That's not even mentioning the flashbacks." Garcia added quietly to the side.

"He had one with you?" Morgan asked, curiously.

"Umm... yeah." Prentiss said, still feeling a little embarrassed about slapping him across the face. "He literally started reciting conversations between him and Jason, word for word... The doctor says they think his flashbacks are so strong because of the strength of his mind."

"Which doctor?" Morgan jumped in.

"Dr. Wright." Garcia answered.

"Don't know him." Morgan remarked.

"He says that they should calm down a little once he starts talking about the... what happened to him. But he did seem surprised at how early the onset of the flashbacks were." Prentiss explained.

"He's got an appointment with the Psychologist this afternoon." Morgan added.

"Yeah, she was just going in as we were leaving." Garcia said softly.

"He wouldn't even look at her." Prentiss said coolly.

"I don't see that Psychologist having an easy time, do you?" Rossi spoke, with a slightly amused tone. As good a psychologist he considered himself, he did not envy the woman one bit. Speaking to Reid about personal matters was difficult enough, he knew how to run rings round some of the best psychologists. But speaking to Reid when he was in a closed down mind set, that was near impossible. Like trying to break through diamond. Rossi always wondered why Reid seemed to consider himself so weak, because Rossi had always seen him as impenetrable when he wanted to be. His defenses were second to none. But they often did him more harm than good.

"Oh... and there's something else." Prentiss said, carefully.

Morgan glanced and Rossi and Hotch, the nerves suddenly racing through his body.

"What is it?" Hotch asked, bracing himself.

"They've changed his pain meds." Garcia said. "He's on Vicodin now."

"What?" Morgan snapped, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "But that's a narcotic. They were told! No narcotics!"

"We know, we know! But he asked for it. Derek, he was in agony. He really needed it." Garcia said, getting a little upset.

"Well that's different." Rossi added, in Reid's defense. "If he's in agony, then it can only be sensible."

"Yeah." Prentiss added down the phone, sceptically.

"What?" Morgan asked. "What Emily?"

"I'm not saying he's not in agony, because he clearly is. But you should have seen him when they gave him the tablets. Within fifteen minutes, the shaking from his hands had gone, the constant tension and irritability had disappeared and he had relaxed back into the bed."

"That's the effects of Vicodin though Emily. That's what it does." Rossi commented.

"I know. But am I the only one who thinks that he might just learn to enjoy that feeling?" Prentiss asked, the concern clear in her voice.

"We can't think like that right now." Hotch commanded. "Reid is where he needs to be, getting the treatment he needs and talking to the people he needs to talk to. We have to trust they to make sure nothing like that happens... they know his background, they will keep an eye on him. I'll make sure of it." Hotch told them sternly.

"Okay..." Prentiss agreed reluctantly. "Well we're going home for a while now. I'm sorry, it wasn't a very successful visit." Prentiss apologised.

"We didn't even get a smile out of him." Garcia added sadly.

"Don't worry. It's going to take time." Rossi reassured them.

"I'll call you both later." Morgan said his goodbyes, along with Hotch and Rossi then turned to look once again at the scene before him. The bloodied floor, the chains hanging from the ceiling, the blood covered bed, complete with straps, chains and collars all designed for immobilisation and complete dominance. He suddenly felt extremely queasy.

"The curse of an eidetic memory." Rossi said under his breath, remembering what Prentiss and Garcia had said about the flashbacks. He dreaded to think what horrors Reid's mind could conjure up. The room alone was enough to give you nightmares.

"I can't do this." Morgan said suddenly. He wanted to be back with Reid at the hospital, but visiting hours weren't until 7pm. It was only 5pm.

"Morgan, go home." Hotch ordered. "There's no need for you to be here. The scene is nearly processed now. I won't be here much longer myself." He reassured him. He knew how loyal Morgan could be. He wouldn't leave if he felt that Hotch or Rossi might struggle.

Morgan eyed him for a few moments, reading him for any lies.

"Okay." He conceded. "But if you need me, for anything. Call me."

"I'll come with you to the hospital later." Rossi nodded.

Morgan nodded, then looked at Hotch expectantly.

"I have Jack tonight." Hotch avoided eye contact, knowing that it wasn't a very good excuse.

Morgan and Rossi looked to each other, Rossi shook his head, effectively telling Morgan to leave it. Morgan sighed.

"Fine. I'll pick you up later." He spoke to Rossi. Morgan took one last glance at the room he hoped he would never see again. At least not in person, then headed out.

Hotch and Rossi stood in awkward silence for a few moments. Rossi never took his eyes off Hotch.

"Aaron-"

"We have work to do, Dave." Hotch turned away, ignoring him completely.

It clearly wasn't only Reid who needed emotional support.