Hotch entered through the glass doors of the BAU to multiple pairs of eyes on him. The last thing people had seen was him throwing Anderson's monitor onto the floor and leaving with the team in a hurry. He was unaware of whether anyone knew of what had transpired in the hours since, but he sincerely hoped for Reid's sake they didn't.
He had been summoned into the office this morning to meet with Strauss and the Director. This was a meeting he was not looking forward to but knew was of the utmost importance. He wanted to know exactly what was happening with Nick, John and the other men. He was not going to be side-lined this time.
He kept his gaze forward as his feet took him through the office, ignoring the curious glances of other BAU colleagues. He headed straight up to the mezzanine and into the conference room where he found Strauss and the Director already waiting. He closed the door behind him and extended his hand out to the Director.
"Jack." He said in a greeting, shaking the man's hand. Jack stood to meet him.
"Aaron. How is your agent?" His voice was laced with concern.
"He underwent surgery overnight for internal bleeding. He is okay physically. Mentally... well..." He trailed off. Strauss looked extremely stressed.
"Please pass on my regards, Aaron. What has happened to him," she grimaced, "it doesn't bear thinking about." Strauss said seriously. Fickler nodded in agreement. "And Agent Morgan?"
"Again, physically, he is okay." Strauss nodded.
"He can take as much time as he needs." She said compassionately. "After what he has witnessed he must be very upset."
"He's not good. He and Reid are very close after what happened with Jason. So, he is struggling with it."
"That is understandable." Strauss nodded, casting her gaze down. "Let him know he has the full support of the Bureau." Again, Fickler nodded in agreement.
"Thank you." Hotch said, surprised by her apparent empathy and patience.
"Please, sit." Fickler gestured to a chair and sat down once again. "I understand it was your analyst that located the source of the leak that led to Agent Field being implicated. You were given strict instructions not to get involved in the investigation." Hotch scowled. "Those instructions were wrong. And I apologise. If it wasn't for your team, Agent Field would have continued to make a mockery of the FBI and all we stand for . And your Agents would probably be dead." Hotch breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn't have the energy to be explaining himself right now. "An investigation into the Pittsburgh and Norfolk trafficking task forces is underway to locate any further corruption. We've brought in Agents from D.C. who have been personally vetted to interview Agent Field, Agent Woods, John Maloney and his accomplices." Fickler looked to Strauss.
"Which brings us to a sensitive matter." Strauss said sucking in a breath. Hotch furrowed his brows. "Agent Field is willing to share all of his knowledge of the operation, which we understand is considerable... but he wants WITSEC."
"No." Hotch snapped instantly.
Strauss' lips tightened into a firm line. "The information he can provide could shut down the whole operation. He has information on the locations of more than 30 victims and their abusers including names and locations of all of the big players within the organisation."
"He's been sat on this information for how long and done nothing! Instead, he aided their operation and intentionally diverted the investigation in the wrong direction. He's let countless men suffer and now he wants protection through WITSEC? You can't be serious." Hotch bared his teeth in anger.
Strauss and Fickler exchanged an uneasy glance.
"It has already been agreed, Aaron." Fickler said in anticipation of a volatile reaction.
"You're kidding." Hotch almost laughed in disbelief.
"He is considered a valuable witness." Fickler said simply.
"A valuable witness?" This time he did laugh, his composure waning. "Tell that to Reid who is lying in a hospital bed with internal injuries having been gang raped by men he was protecting! Tell that to the multiple victims who have been trafficked. Where is the protection for them? He had a duty to those victims and he purposefully neglected it in favour of financial gain. He deserves life in prison, not WITSEC!"
"Aaron, I understand entirely where you are coming from-"
"No, Erin, I don't think you do. You watch one of your team members - no, a friend, be torn to pieces. Then have someone you trust come in and take every detail of that trauma down only to leak it to the press. Then they enter their home under the guise of protecting and helping them only to allow it to happen to them all over again. Think of someone you care about and just imagine that, Erin. Then you will be somewhere close to understanding where I am coming from. How am I supposed to tell him that the person who shared his deepest traumas with the sole intention of putting him through it again is being protected by our government? Whilst he, a decorated agent who has diligently served that very government has twice been victimised with no protection from the FBI?"
Strauss dropped her gaze. She couldn't answer that. She had already fought tooth and nail against this but she couldn't share that with Hotch. Not in front of the Director who demanded unity on the matter.
"Aaron, we have to look at the bigger picture. This is much larger than your agent's suffering. It extends to potentially dozens of men. I truly am sorry for what your agent has been through and he will have the full support of the Bureau in his recovery, but there are more victims out there who need our help. This is the only way forward." Fickler stated calmly.
"I can see that. But from an organisation that assures us that it's never okay to sacrifice the life of one to save the lives of many, you can understand why those words sound a little hollow right now."
"Your agent will be much safer with Nicholas Field in WITSEC."
"My agent has a name, Director. Spencer Reid. Perhaps you would like to deliver this news to him yourself? And you can see exactly how safe he has been thanks to the FBI."
"I have seen the photos, Aaron and I don't appreciate your tone."
Hotch's gaze hardened and he stared firmly at the Director who returned it ten fold. Hotch blinked, nothing was going to help. This decision had clearly been finalised and no amount of arguing was going to reverse it. He knew that. Fickler's gaze softened somewhat as he sensed a slight surrender in Hotch's body language.
"I know what has happened to your- to Spencer, is horrendous. There are no words to describe it. I can assure you, we are taking it very seriously to ensure that nothing like this will ever happen again. But Aaron, surely you can see that this is for the best? It is the only way that something positive can come out of this."
Hotch dropped his gaze in contemplation.
"So, you are having no success with John Maloney or any of his accomplices?" His tone was flat and depressed.
"They have all lawyered up. All we can get out of any of them is 'no comment'." Fickler said, rolling his eyes. Hotch's fists tightened. Fickler and Strauss exchanged another awkward glance then he cleared his throat awkwardly. Hotch quirked an eyebrow at the pair.
"What is it?" He asked curiously.
Strauss breathed out a sigh, clearly reluctant to proceed. "John Maloney is playing games with us. He has said he will confess to what he did to Agent Reid..." She trailed off.
Hotch locked eyes with her, reading her reluctance.
"What does he want?"
"He wants to talk to you and Agent Morgan. Initially he wanted to give his confession to Agent Reid."
"What?!" Hotch's eyes flashed furiously.
"That was rejected outright, there is no way that would happen under the FBI's watch. Realising he wasn't getting anywhere with that, he's pushing to see you and Agent Morgan."
"He cannot see Morgan either. He is both a victim and a material witness."
"We have discussed this at length and have decided that this is a decision only you and Agent Morgan can make. He has agreed he and his accomplices will plead guilty in the event that we can arrange it, which means Spencer would not have to face trial."
Hotch was adamant that he would not be giving his agreement until that final sentence.
"We are more than aware that his motivations are likely just to torment." Strauss said, her eyes angry. "We are under no illusions that a meeting with him will not be pleasant, but given what is at stake, we felt it only right that the decision be left to you."
"He has no reason to want to speak to us other than to cause mental anguish." Hotch said simply, sighing. There was nothing for John to gain from a conversation with him and Morgan other than a final power play to make himself feel important. They had seen it many times before when called in for interviews with psychopaths and sociopaths in prison. They had wasted many hours with self-indulgent attempts to relive their crimes or endeavours to play games in order to bolster their sense of power.
"I know." Strauss said with an air of disgust. "This is not a decision we can make for you."
Hotch nodded in understanding. Apprehension pooled in his stomach, but it wasn't for himself. As excellent a profiler as Morgan is, his ability to control his anger sometimes got the better of him. Hotch dreaded the thought of Morgan in the same room as the man that had abused Reid so badly. Especially knowing that his intention was likely to torment Morgan further. He really didn't want to put Morgan through that. The thought of the discussion about it alone caused enough anxiety, as he knew Morgan would be adamant about doing it if it meant that Reid could avoid facing a trial. That made this meeting inevitable. Hotch suddenly wished it was ten minutes ago and he was still unaware of this information.
"I will need to speak with Agent Morgan before any decision is made."
"That's understandable." Fickler answered, having remained quiet for a large portion of this conversation. "I must advise, he has given a deadline of three days."
"A deadline?" Hotch muttered in frustration. John was clearly enjoying his position of power in this scenario.
"Hmm, he's a piece of work, that's for sure." Fickler said with distaste.
Hotch fixed his gaze on the table for a few moments, willing the anger inside him to dissipate. Under normal circumstances such a power play would not even be entertained. But this was an opportunity to save Reid from the hell of reliving what happened to him in front of an audience - four times over. It couldn't be simply ignored.
Hotch stood. "I will speak with Agent Morgan today. You will have your answer by this evening."
"Thank you, Aaron. I truly am sorry for all of this." Fickler said, extending his arm for a hand shake.
Hotch absentmindedly shook it and turned to leave the room.
"Aaron." He turned to see Strauss' concerned gaze. "If you or your team need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."
"Thanks." Hotch said simply and left the room.
Morgan woke from his sleep in the chair next to Reid's bedside. He'd woken up nearly every hour as if on a timer. Reid still hadn't seemed to stir yet. He looked at his watch. 10am. Reid had been out of surgery since around 2am. Morgan had to admit, he was grateful for the opportunity to catch up on some sleep, even if it wasn't completely undisturbed.
He stared at his colleague and frowned. His mind couldn't quite wrap itself around the fact he was there again, sitting at Reid's bedside looking at him completely brutalised. The peaceful and innocent expression was in total contrast with the violent bruises and cuts that marred his face. He found himself wondering, for what felt like the thousandth time, how someone could do something so horrific to his gentle and kind friend.
He leaned on the bedrail still staring. His mind drifted to Reid's terrified eyes and his panicked breathing as the gun was pushed into his throat. The way his eyes blinked when John called him 'Spence'. The way he kept sickly complimenting his eyes and telling him how 'pretty' he was. The name 'pretty boy' had left Morgan's lips on very rare occasions since Jason's attack out of respect for his friend, but now it was completely off limits. He would never call Reid that again. The sounds of Reid gagging and his muted sobbing filled his ears. He covered them to block it out, but it was overwhelming. His eyes fell closed as unwelcome images flooded his vision. Images of things he had seen and things that remained unseen where his mind was filling in the blanks to match the sounds he had heard. He breathed heavily as desperation and adrenaline flooded his senses. He felt his hands tighten on the bed rails, trying to remind himself of where he was. He could not let himself be pulled back into this. He suddenly felt a gentle hand on his and he furrowed his brows. The hand squeezed twice. Reid. His eyes slammed open and he tried to regain his breath.
"Morgan?" A worried voice called out gently. "Calm down... please." Morgan's grip on the bedrails loosened and he felt slim digits wrap around his pinky finger. He turned, eyes wide, to see Reid's worried face looking back at him.
"Reid." Morgan breathed out. "Oh my god." He stood, grabbing him by either side of the face and kissing the top of his head.
Reid gave an awkward, breathy laugh. "Yes, yes, I'm here." Morgan let go of him and sat back down in his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. Reid's brows furrowed. "Are you okay? Did you just have a flashback?" Concern marred his features. Morgan looked away, shaking his head.
"Don't worry about me, kid."
"Was it about Buford?" He asked gently.
Morgan's gaze shot in his direction, a flash of surprise and guilt crossing his features.
"No, Reid." He cleared his throat. "No, it wasn't. " His expression softened as he saw the realisation sweep over Reid's face and he looked down at the bed sheets.
"Sorry." He said quietly. He felt awful that Morgan was now suffering because of him.
"Don't you ever apologise to me." Morgan said firmly. He watched Reid fidget with his hands for a few moments. "Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" Reid smiled a little.
"Like I've had an anvil dropped on my abdomen." He said with a grimace. His gaze lifted to Morgan. "What happened?"
"You had to have surgery. You had internal bleeding from your small intestine."
"That explains the anvil then." Reid said dryly with a wry smile, putting a cautious hand to his midsection.
"They weren't sure you were going to pull through. I thought we were going to lose you." Morgan's eyes glistened with tears.
"On average only 10% of gastrointestinal bleeds result in death, Morgan." He smiled again as if Morgan had overreacted.
Morgan paused, then smiled and breathed out a laugh.
"Couldn't you have told me that before passing out yesterday?" Reid just shrugged. "I'm glad you're here, kid." He patted Reid's hand, he gave a tight smile in return. "I need to let the doctor know you're awake. They want to give you a post-op check up."
"So it begins." Reid said rolling his eyes. Morgan stood and walked to the door. "You may as well install a revolving door while you're there." He said dryly.
Morgan grinned at him.
"Who says they aren't coming in just to get a look at me?" He smiled with a wink. Reid huffed out a laugh.
Morgan exited the room and his face dropped. He ran his hands over his head and leaned against the wall opposite the room for a short while. Reid seemed to be in good spirits, all things considered. Morgan however, was not. Smiling, laughing and joking felt exhausting when all he wanted to do was cry, hit something and comfort Reid. But this time there was no comforting Reid. There was nothing about him that needed comforting. It was like some part of his awareness got left behind somewhere. It reminded him of when he tried to run something on his laptop and it wouldn't work. Like something was missing.
File Not Found
It was such an extreme change from how he was just yesterday when he found out the video had been leaked and his name had been sent to the press. Now something ten times worse had happened and it was like it was nothing. Morgan figured it had to be extreme compartmentalisation. Perhaps his brain just couldn't deal with anymore emotional distress. He didn't know. All he knew for certain: it was weird. It was weird and he didn't know what to do with it. The fake smiles would only last so long before his own mind snapped. His ability to be jovial had a limit, given the images that were constantly nipping at the edges of his vision, waiting to creep in. They made him want to hit something. Each one was sicker than the last. He'd never wanted to witness them in the first place. For them to be forcing their way in now, after the fact, angered him no end. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
"Are you alright?" A sweet voice came from beside him. A young nurse had stopped next to him, recognising the look of distress on his face. This snapped Morgan back into the present almost instantly.
"Yeah, I'm okay... Thanks." She nodded and smiled kindly. "Is Dr. Marston still on shift?"
"Yes, she's working a double." She glanced to Reid's room for a moment. "Is everything okay?"
"She wanted to know when Spencer Reid woke up. He's awake now."
"Okay, I will pass on the message." She said with a smile.
"Thanks." Morgan returned it, feeling that familiar pang of falseness.
The nurse left and he was once again alone. He stared at the door to Reid's room and willed himself to go back in. But he found his feet leading him away and towards the cafeteria.
Reid sat in bed staring at his hands. Everything felt so unreal, like he was somehow separated from the world by a sheet of Plexiglass or everything was 2D. His abdomen throbbed painfully, but even that felt distant somehow. Almost delayed. By the time his mind registered a twinge, it was ebbing away. He could feel the bubbling of what felt like heart burn in his chest and throat. Now that was more bothersome. It was uncomfortable and made his throat feel full and tight. He swallowed trying to push it down but the lump remained. He would ask the doctor for some antacids when they came in.
He looked around the room and found his watch on the side table. Morgan must have put it there for him. 10.15am. This time yesterday he was on his way back to the BAU after being unexpectedly harangued by the media about some unknown video. He was in a taxi watching that very video on all social media platforms, reading the comments people were making, reading the reports from the media and the speculation about where it had come from and who was involved. It felt like a lifetime ago. The video was likely still out there, still viral and still being speculated over.
It really doesn't matter. He told himself. No amount of crying or panicking is going to get that video to disappear.
He shook his head to himself. He had wasted so much energy being devastated over things he couldn't change. None of it had done any good. He was back to where he started over three months ago, almost like life had pressed a reset button on him. It was almost funny when he thought about it. So much effort and work put in to 'getting back to being himself', when in reality that wasn't possible. Who was 'himself'? Some carefully concocted personality he had developed in his youth, no doubt. All of this had just shown him who he actually was. As scared he had been during the attack, some words resonated with him.
It's not like you haven't done this before.
That much was true. So why should it reset him to where he was? It's not like it was his first time. It wasn't as though they had taken something from him that hadn't already been taken. His virginity was long lost to Jason. His self-respect along with it. It was clear that the chances of him ever having a normal relationship after this was minimal. His body was pretty much used up. He'd had sex with five men now, each one felt like they had left some foul imprint in his body. He smiled a little despite himself.
A heterosexual man who has had sex with only men.
He shook his head. Everything about it was ridiculous. An 'FBI agent' who has three times been unable to defend himself. A 'profiler' who, twice, has been unable to read the motivations of those he trusted. A 'heterosexual' who has had only homosexual sex.
You're a fraud. Everything about you is a counterfeit.
They had showed him exactly who he was. A weak man, pretending to be strong, dressed up as an FBI agent. A pathetic little boy hiding behind a shield of intelligence that in reality wasn't any use against brute physical force. A man who had kept his virginity for years under the illusion that a deep connection with someone was important for him to enjoy it, but had ejaculated multiple times for any man that touched him in the right place. Everything he had been was a lie. They had showed him that. He smiled with contempt.
A knock came at the door. He pulled his gaze away from his hands and looked towards it.
"Come in." He called out. He was met with the sight of Hotch entering the room. He looked surprised to see Reid.
"You're awake." His eyebrows raised and his lips quirked upwards.
"Looks like it." Reid gave a tight lipped smile.
Hotch looked to the chair at the side of the bed.
"Where's Morgan?"
"He went to find a doctor for a post-op check up." Reid shrugged. Hotch nodded and moved into the room to sit in the chair. Reid watched him.
"How are you?"
"I'm okay. A bit sore." Reid said breathing out a laugh again. This seemed to be his go-to move at the moment. Hotch's brows furrowed.
"You scared us last night. We didn't know if you would make it."
"Morgan said. Looks like you're stuck with me." Reid gave a feelingless smile. Hotch examined him for a few moments.
"Reid, I'm so sorry." He dropped his gaze down as Reid looked at him curiously. He didn't feel he could say this to his face without falling apart. "I have failed you again. I didn't see what was right in front of me." Reid actually laughed now.
"Well neither did I, so you're in good company." Hotch's features twitched. That was not the response he was expecting. He stared hard at his youngest colleague, trying to get a read on him. Reid in turn tilted his head slightly. "What?"
There were so many things that flooded into Hotch's mind at that moment. They felt like they were building up and filling his mouth. His tongue was weighed down by them. They were either going to all burst out or still his speech. His lips twitched as a stream of consciousness was about to leave his mouth. In the last second he stopped himself.
"Nothing." He said sternly, frowning again and breaking the eye contact. He knew this wasn't Reid. But when Reid had been in a complete mess, that hadn't been 'Reid' either. Was he really in the position to tell him how to deal with this? No one had done that with him after Foyet, so what right did he have to tell Reid how he should be acting right now? He figured a breakdown was likely imminent if last time was anything to go by. "Have they told you when you will be discharged?"
Reid shook his head. "I'm hoping soon."
"Morgan wants you to stay with him again. You can't go home at the moment."
"Yeah, crime scene, I know." Reid rolled his eyes.
"Would you want to go home if you could?" Hotch asked curiously, sure that his answer must be no.
"Why wouldn't I?" Reid said, almost challenging. Hotch was taken aback a little.
"I just would have thought it would bring bad associations." Reid looked at him like he expected him to continue. "Because of, well... you know."
"You can say it, Hotch. Because three men had sex with me in there." Hotch flinched. "Most people have sex in their apartments all the time. So I don't see what difference it makes."
"Most people aren't held at gunpoint, beaten and gang raped, Reid."
Reid laughed. "Call it what you like. It's just sex. Forced or not, it's essentially the same actions and outcomes. This-", he swept a hand down himself indicating his injuries, "could have been avoided if I had just not panicked." Hotch looked at him like he'd gone insane. He put a hand out to his arm and grabbed it gently, avoiding any bruising.
"Reid. Do you hear yourself right now?" He was trying his best to deal with this delicately, his face was full of concern. Reid just furrowed his brows at him like he didn't see what the problem was. Hotch knew he had to try to get through to him. "Would you have said the same to JJ if Lomax had raped her? That it's just sex? That it's the same as her and Will having a loving evening together?"
Reid shot an angry look at his superior. "I would never say that to JJ."
"Then why is it okay to say to yourself?"
"Because it's different." He said simply.
"How so?" Hotch said incredulously.
"It just is!" Reid was getting irritated now. He pulled his arm away from Hotch. "If you don't understand that then that's not my problem. If you want to make a big deal out of this then go ahead. But do it somewhere else." He snapped.
"You're in denial." Hotch said simply, eyeing his subordinate carefully.
Reid laughed derisively. "You have no idea what you are talking about."
"So you don't think that you're in denial?" Hotch quickly retorted.
"No I'm not, Hotch. I will say the same to you as I did to Morgan: I gave fellatio, they returned it, I was digitally penetrated, I was sodomised. I am not in denial. I have been here before remember."
Hotch stared Reid deep in his eyes for a few moments. Morgan was right. There was no distress. Just acceptance. Too much acceptance. It was unsettling.
"Okay." Hotch responded cooperatively. The last thing he wanted to do was drive Reid away and if he kept pushing to see emotion that Reid wasn't ready to express then that's exactly what he would do. He stood up. "Well, I'm going to find Morgan, I need to speak with him." Reid's eyebrows quirked.
"Why?" Hotch sucked in a breath. He really didn't want to discuss this before having spoken to Morgan. Reid read the reluctance in Hotch's face. "Another thing you're going to hide from me then."
Hotch flinched. That stung. He was right. He promised he wouldn't hide things and here he was doing it again. He sat back down, he paused for a moment, trying to find the softest words to deliver this news. There weren't any.
"It's John Maloney." Hotch said, carefully watching Reid's reaction. He saw him swallow hard and his face paled a little. He looked up to the door and Hotch followed his gaze. Morgan was now stood there, eyes wide in angry anticipation.
"What about that sick son of a bitch?" Hotch closed his eyes briefly and turned back to Reid.
"He has said he and his men will confess and plead guilty to what they did to you, as long as he can speak to me and Morgan." Reid shook his head. Hotch continued. "He did want to speak to you, but Strauss and the Director have put a block on that."
"He wanted to speak to Reid?! You've gotta be kidding me!" Morgan moved towards the bed dangerously.
"Like I said, that won't be happening."
"Maybe it should." Reid said thoughtfully.
"What?!" Morgan snapped. They both looked at him like he was crazy.
"Well it's not like hearing his confession is going to come as any surprise to me. I already know what he did."
Morgan shook his head in frustration.
"It's not that, Reid." Hotch countered. "He could confess to anyone if he wanted to but he's using it as a way to inflict more pain. If you went in there he would take great pleasure in tormenting you. That's all this is about."
Reid looked to Morgan. "But he's going to do the same to you." He would take it on himself, but he knew how much Morgan had been traumatised already. He really didn't want to see Morgan put through that.
"Rather us than you, kid." Morgan said firmly. Reid stared at him, his eyes softening.
"Tell him no. I don't want you in the same room with him." Morgan moved to the side of the bed.
"I don't wanna be in the same room with him either. But if what Hotch says is right, then this is a chance for you to avoid having to go to court." Morgan said gently, willing Reid to understand.
"Only if he sticks to his word." Reid said skeptically.
"Well it's a chance I will happily take if it means you have a shot at avoiding that, Reid." Morgan turned to Hotch. "Tell them we'll do it." Reid grabbed his hand.
"Morgan..." Reid's eyes were pleading with him. Morgan squeezed his hand tightly.
"Don't you worry about me, kid. I will be perfectly safe."
"It's not your safety I'm worried about. You are having flashbacks. You shouldn't be going in there with him." Hotch's gaze lifted to Morgan, concern swept over his features.
"Is that right?" Hotch asked, frowning. Morgan rolled his eyes a little trying to avoid Hotch's probing eyes.
"Not really. I was worried about Reid and my mind went down a bad road, that's all."
"Morgan, I saw it." Reid said firmly.
"If you are having flashbacks, Morgan, I really don't think it is a good idea to do this. Anything he says could trigger you." Hotch spoke calmly. "And we don't have the time to get you mentally prepared as he has given a deadline of three days."
"Three days." Morgan repeated in frustration. "Who the hell does he think he is?!"
"He knows this is something we want that he has complete control over. It's nothing but a game to him."
"He really is one sick fuck." Reid could feel Morgan's grip tightening on his hand as his anger was getting the better of him.
A knock at the door interrupted as Hotch was about to speak again. Dr. Marston popped her head around with a smile. She entered the room and automatically sensed the tension.
"Is everything okay in here?" They all exchanged awkward glances.
"Fine." Reid replied as nonchalantly as he could. Dr Marston paused for a few moments, taking in the expressions of the agents in the room. Something was obviously going on but it was no doubt outside of her realms of responsibility, or business. She nodded.
"Okay. Dr. Reid, I'm glad to see you're awake. You gave us quite the scare yesterday." He gave a tight lipped smile again. "I need to give you a check-up if your friends wouldn't mind waiting outside?" She looked to Morgan and Hotch. Hotch stood acquiescing.
"We'll be right outside, kid." Morgan said reassuringly, giving Reid's hand a final squeeze. Reid simply nodded. As the two left the room, Dr. Marston moved in towards the side of the bed.
"How are you feeling, Doctor?"
"Sore." He answered honestly. "What did you do to me?" He said with another breathy laugh. She smiled in response.
"You had a Laparotomy." Reid grimaced. "Some soreness is to be expected. It's quite a big procedure...May I check your stats?" Reid nodded and Dr. Marston proceeded to attach a blood pressure cuff and sats monitor. She waited for the readings to be returned and then asked for permission to check his temperature with a tympanic thermometer. Once this was done she stood back a little. "I need to check your wound site, if you don't mind? If you could lift up your gown for me?" She noted the slight tightening of Reid's grasp on the bed sheets, but he didn't say anything. He pushed the sheets down and pulled the gown up to expose his midsection, quickly dragging the bed sheets back up to cover his lower region. Dr. Marston respectfully kept her gaze averted.
Reid gasped a little upon seeing the dressing on his stomach. It was at least seven to eight inches long, which meant the incision was likely to be around five to six inches in length. No wonder his midsection was uncomfortable.
"It's quite a large incision." She said, almost apologetically. She was painfully aware of the number of scars her patient had received in recent months by no fault of his own. This was just another to add to the collection. It made her sick. Steadying her expression, she continued. "The dressing looks good, it will require changing in a day or two as long as it stays dry and clean." Reid nodded, unable to take his eyes off what would be his newest scar. "You will need to rest up. Only very short walks, to and from the bathroom for example for the first few days, then you can start building it up." Noticing he didn't appear to be listening to her she tilted her head at him. "Dr. Reid?" He pulled his gaze away from the dressing and looked at her, his eyes blank. "Did you hear me?" She asked with a gentle smile. He simply nodded in return. "You will likely experience some discomfort-"
"When can I go home?" He cut in.
Her mouth momentarily dropped open at the interruption but she quickly gathered her thoughts "I would like to keep you here for at least a couple of days just to make sure the wound doesn't get infected. So, maybe Monday? If all goes well." Reid furrowed his brows and nodded. Receiving no response she went to sit down in the chair next to him, her gaze turning soft. "How are you, Dr. Reid?" She had already noticed a marked difference in him from this time compared to last time. Like everyone else, she didn't know what to make of it.
"I'm fine." He shrugged.
"I mean mentally." She said carefully. "I'm wondering if you would like to talk to someone about what happened... Ruth, maybe?"
"If I don't will you threaten to keep me here again?" Reid asked, his tone flat.
Dr. Marston's lips tightened for a moment thinking back to last time and the extreme panic attacks and flashbacks Reid was experiencing.
"I would recommend at least speaking to someone given the dissociative state you went through when you were brought in."
"So that's a yes." Reid snapped.
"I will only need to hold you if I feel there is a risk to your safety, like last time. Do I have any reason to be concerned for your safety?" She asked directly. Reid gave a sardonic smile.
"I think I am proof that safety is never guaranteed. But if you mean, am I likely to hurt myself, then no."
Dr. Marston nodded. Any hint of a smile had been taken from her face. The person in front of her couldn't be more different to the soft and gentle character she had met on his previous admission. There was a bitterness that she hadn't seen last time. It made her deeply unhappy.
"Okay, well that is good. Whilst it would be my recommendation, if you do not wish to speak with anyone, as long as your mental health remains stable, I cannot enforce it." Reid nodded in apparent relief. "But if you do wish to speak with someone, please let me know." She looked down to her file and made some notes. Reid watched her carefully. "How is your pain?"
"Manageable." He said simply.
"You are currently on Tylenol and Advil. Are you happy with that combination or do you require anything stronger?" She had fallen into her usual professional routine now, sensing that any attempts at comfort or reassurance were going to fall flat.
"No, they are fine."
"Okay. On a scale of one to ten how bad would you say your pain is?" She casually looked down to her file again.
"About a six." It was more like an eight, but when did he ever tell the truth about his discomfort?
She nodded. "Okay, if you require anything stronger, please let me know." She made another note in her file. "Have you passed water yet?"
Reid shook his head.
"Am I allowed out of bed?" He asked, surprised. Last time he had been kept trapped for reasons he still couldn't quite comprehend. Unbeknownst to him it was mostly for safety reasons.
"Yes, you are free to use the bathroom as and when you need." She smiled a little. "If you struggle passing water then please let someone know as a matter of urgency." Reid nodded and swallowed. The lump in his throat felt like it was choking him now. He unconsciously put his hand to his neck and breathed deeply. Dr. Marston clocked the movement. "Do you have some discomfort?"
Reid cleared his throat and swallowed. "Just some heartburn I think. It's all in my chest and throat."
"It's not uncommon after a Laparotomy. I will prescribe some Lansoprazole, an antacid. That should help relieve your symptoms. It should calm down within a couple of days."
"Thank you."
Dr. Marston kept her gaze down at the file and wrote a few more notes then peered up at Reid. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Dr. Reid?"
Reid gave a lopsided smile and shook his head.
"Okay." She stood. "If you need anything please just press the call button and someone will be with you. I'll let your friends back in now, if you want to..." She trailed off gesturing for him to cover back up.
Reid quickly pulled down his gown, he blushed slightly. He really had no awareness of how much his senses were dulled.
Dr. Marston left the room and Reid rested his head back into the pillow, closing his eyes. Tiredness was starting to set in. Interacting with people was exhausting. The next moment Morgan and Hotch were back at the side of his bed.
"You okay, kid?" Morgan asked, stroking a hand through his hair. Reid's eyes snapped open. "It's just me." Morgan said quickly and reassuringly. Reid pulled his head away from the touch. It was irritating and invasive. "You alright?" Morgan pulled his hand back and his brows furrowed.
Reid rubbed his eyes and nodded, sucking in a breath as he did. He'd forgotten how sore his face was.
"I can go home on Monday." He said resting his head back into the pillow once again.
"That's good." Hotch said, trying to remain positive.
"You'll be coming home with me, Reid." Morgan said firmly. Reid sighed.
"I didn't expect to have a choice in it." He said flatly, closing his eyes. Hotch and Morgan exchanged glances.
"Reid. Look at me." Morgan leaned on the bed rail. He reluctantly did. "This isn't about taking your choices away. You've had a serious operation and need to rest up for a week or two. I just want to help you."
"It's fine." Reid waved him away, turning his gaze away. "So, what is happening with John? I assume you have made a decision on that too." His tone was slightly biting.
"Yes." Hotch said flatly. "We will be speaking with him." Reid smiled.
"Of course." He looked to Morgan and shook his head, clearly disapproving. "It's really not worth it."
"You are worth it, Reid." Morgan said passionately. Reid just huffed a laugh and shook his head.
"No, I'm not." He said under his breath, mostly to himself, but Morgan caught it.
"Yes, you are." He grabbed his hand but Reid pulled it back.
"Morgan, just... don't." He looked down at the bed then closed his eyes. The lump in his throat felt like it was pulsating, he rubbed at it, trying to relieve the pressure. Morgan's gritted his teeth, trying his best not to push him.
Hotch took a deep breath, his eyes fixing on Morgan.
"There is something else." Morgan's eyes met his and he could see the look of alarm in them. Reid didn't open his eyes but the hand rubbing at his throat and chest came to a stop. "Nicholas Field is being given WITSEC." Hotch said reluctantly.
"What?!" Morgan exploded. Reid just started laughing. It was a disturbing sound. The reaction cut Morgan off dead and his brows furrowed as he looked at his friend.
"He has information on dozens of victims and perpetrators. I can assure you, I had no say in this decision." Hotch spoke apologetically. His voice uncharacteristically soft.
A tight smile rested on Reid's face, his brows were furrowed and eyes still closed. His fingers came to rest in his eyes as if he had a headache. He huffed out an amused breath.
"Reid?..." Hotch tried.
"Can you go, please?" Reid said suddenly. Hotch and Morgan exchanged surprised glances.
"We're staying right where we are. We're not leaving you." Morgan said steadfastly.
Reid shook his head in irritation, fingers still firmly pressed into his eyes. He opened them for a brief moment to grab the nurse call button and pressed it then resumed hiding his gaze behind his digits.
Hotch just watched him in silence. His worry was skyrocketing. Morgan grabbed Reid's shoulder only to find his touch unwelcome. Reid shoved it away with his free hand.
"Reid, please. Talk to us." Morgan pressed. Reid wrapped his free arm around his chest now. He was breathing deeply. His body language was completely avoidant.
A knock then came from the door and a nurse popped her head round.
"You pressed the call button?" Reid's eyes suddenly opened and he looked urgently towards the young woman.
"I need them to leave." Morgan looked at Reid in shock.
"What? Reid, no?!" Morgan's eyes glistened with tears. Hotch's expression tightened and a deep scowl overtook his features.
The nurse's mouth dropped open, she awkwardly looked between the two men. "I'm sorry." She said apologetically. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Morgan's gaze shot to her, desperate for her not to do this. She shifted uncomfortably.
"Reid, please. Don't do this." Morgan begged. He needed to be with him. He didn't know where his head would go if he wasn't in his sights.
"Can't you at least let Morgan stay with you?" Hotch tried gently.
Reid's gaze had hardened and was now facing directly forwards, avoiding the eye contact of anyone in the room. He took a dramatic breath in and out , suggesting he was losing his patience. The nurse moved towards the two men.
"Please agents." She gestured towards the door.
Hotch's shoulders dropped in surrender.
"Come on, Morgan."
Morgan's gaze lingered on Reid for a few moments longer, hoping beyond hope that he would change his mind. He didn't.
Sighing, he reluctantly headed towards the door Hotch was now holding open. Before leaving, he turned.
"I'll be back later." His voice was adamant.
Reid just disregarded him, turning his gaze away. They both left the room.
Once the nurse saw the door close she approached the side of his bed.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm supposed to have Lansoprazole." Reid said, rubbing his chest and grimacing. He winced as the pressure built up again and took his breath.
"Oh, okay. I will get you some now. I'll just be a minute." The nurse said with a small smile and quickly left the room.
Reid took some deep breaths but nothing seemed to help. The feeling in his chest and throat was overwhelming. He felt tears flood his eyes and blinked them back, breathing harder. He pushed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes.
His mind drifted to all of the information he had received in the last half hour. It was too much. He had barely got his head round the fact that he had one minute been held down in his bedroom and the next he was in hospital, had nearly died and had once again been horrendously violated. To learn that one man was playing games at his expense and the other was being protected left him feeling numb. His ability to process his emotions was broken. His Mother's soothing voice started creeping in and he let it. His Mother's arms wrapped around him and her words soothed as he allowed his mind to wander back into his protective cocoon.