Read my Lips
Chapter 22
She had two black eyes. One side of her face was red and swollen. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises. And a freeway's worth of tubes and wires were snaking out from under her thin hospital gown. But Eliana was alive. The doctor said it was a miracle that she didn't have any broken bones or major internal injuries. But other, less encouraging words came next. Words like traumatic brain injury, psychosis, and ptsd.
On one side of her narrow hospital cot, there was a collection of softly beeping monitors. Spencer sat on the opposite side, his larger hand wrapped around her smaller one. The nail on Eliana's ring finger had been completely ripped off, leaving an extremely raw patch of skin that he felt ought to be covered with some sort of bandage. The sight of her gave Spencer a deep pain in the center of his chest. Eliana was a petite woman to begin with. But lying in the hospital bed, she looked tiny and frail. Like a strong wind might blow her away. Her skin was pale beneath her cuts and bruises. She suffered hypothermia during her trip down the river. And dehydration from whatever her captor did to her before she managed to escape. The lab found methylenedioxymethamphetamine, commonly referred to as ecstasy, in her system. Reid suspected that Casanova dosed her with more than that in order to make her easier to manipulate and control. But so far, the standard drug tests run by the hospital lab had all come up negative.
Eliana's body was limp against the hospital cot. But when the doctor reached in, pulling Eliana's gown down slightly in order to adjust one of the monitors that was stuck to her chest, her arms and legs went stiff. Her eyelids fluttered as her eyes moved back and forth underneath them. And Eliana cried out, her words coming out in a garbled mix of Hebrew and Moroccan Arabic.
"She's been yelling incoherently like that since we stabilized her body temperature," the doctor explained. The hospital staff couldn't understand anything Eliana was saying. It was part of the reason they were convinced she had a brain injury.
"It's not incoherent," Spencer countered. "She's speaking in another language. Two of them actually."
"Really?," the doctor asked. "What did she say?"
Spencer's grip on Eliana's hand tightened slightly. An unconscious gesture that happened every time he thought about the 'minor' internal injuries mentioned in the initial examination report. And the rope burns around Eliana's wrists.
"She said get your fucking hands off me," Spencer translated. The doctor raised her eyebrow at him. And then she smiled down at her foul mouthed patient.
"Fair enough Miss Kaminski," the doctor quipped. Reid was expecting the doctor to head back out of the room now that her brief examination was complete. But she lingered at Elaina's bedside, staring down at her with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Maybe what we thought was a brain injury is actually withdrawal symptoms…"
"You said nothing showed up in her blood or urine other than the MDMA," Spencer responded. "That wouldn't cause this type of several withdrawal." Spencer read the entire lab report. Twice. Because he was too upset to take it all in at first glance. As someone that had been through withdrawal a few times himself, he could certainly testify that Eliana's symptoms were just as consistent with that as they were with a brain injury. Maybe more so. He suspected right away that her body was fighting to rid itself of something foul. He just didn't know what that something was.
"We only test for a standard list of medications," the doctor explained. "It's possible she was dosed with a drug that's not on the standard screening. Something the lab wouldn't think to test for."
"Do you have a pharmaceutical desk reference?," Spencer asked. The doctor nodded, heading out of the room and returning a few moments later with a thick orange book in her hands. She lingered in the doorway, watching Spencer flip through the well worn pages with unbelievable speed. Several hundred pages later, Spencer was on the phone with the hospital lab. And after another agonizing slow two hours and several calls to the hospital lab, he paged Eliana's doctor back to her room.
"Marinol?," the doctor confirmed. Spencer nodded. Not only was Eliana dosed with a drug that was usually reserved for cancer patients, she had more than enough of it in her body to cause all the symptoms she was displaying. She had also been dosed with smaller amounts of muscle relaxants and anti-anxiety medication. But those were already working their way out of her battered body. "With the ecstasy, that cocktail could have easily killed her if it wasn't given in carefully measured doses. How would someone know to do this?" The doctor filled a syringe as she spoke, injecting medication into Eliana's IV that would help ease the withdrawal symptoms and help her flush her body of Casanova's deadly cocktail. "Do you think the man that took her might be a doctor?"
"It's possible," Spencer admitted. "He clearly has medical knowledge. We believe he's a white male in his thirties. He's physically fit. And he's extremely narcissistic. Does that sound like anyone you know?"
The doctor chuckled softly before she answered. "That sounds like every doctor I know," she joked. Spencer smiled back, but the expression was half hearted. Eliana's doctor rounded the edge of the bed and set her hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be out for at least the rest of today and tonight. There's two armed guards outside her room. Why don't you go back to your hotel and get some sleep. I can write you a script for a valium if you need it."
Spencer thanked her as he shook his head. There was absolutely zero chance that he would be leaving Eliana's side. Especially not when there was a chance that her captor might be a doctor at this hospital. Even though he knew the rest of the BAU were taking turns adding their presence to the local police that were stationed outside the room, he still wasn't going anywhere.
Spencer sat next to Eliana's hospital bed. Derek brought him his phone charger and some takeout from a local hamburger joint. But he didn't eat much. He stayed awake as long as he could, keeping a watchful eye on the door to her room. But eventually, exhaustion took over. He slumped to his right, leaning against the side of her bed and fell asleep with his hand still wrapped around hers.
Spencer wasn't sure how long he slept. But when he woke it was because he was jerked roughly out of his chair. Spencer's assailant gripped him by the front of his shirt, ripping the fabric as he pinned him against the closest wall. He winced as the back of his head tumped against the wall. Spencer pawed at the man's thick arm as he tried to get his bearings.
"You did this," the man accused. He tightened his grip on Spencer's shirt, pulling him forward slightly before slamming him back against the wall again.
The man looked vaguely familiar. Though given the intensity of his current situation, it took Spencer a moment to place him. He was shorter than Spencer, but significantly heavier and more muscular. His gray speckled hair was cropped close to his head. And he was dressed in military fatigues.
The man pulled his sidearm from his holster, making sure Spencer saw it in his hand before he made his threat. "I should kill you for what you did to my daughter."
If Spencer didn't already realize, the man's comment made it abundantly obvious who he was. Aleksander Kaminski, Eliana's father. The high ranking general that JJ told him even the head of the department of defense was scared of. Spencer was compiling some sort of explanation in his mind. He didn't hurt Eliana, much less put her in the hospital. But before he could get the words out, Prentiss appeared slightly behind and to the left of the man that was pinning him against the wall. She had her gun out. And it was pointed at his head.
"Holster it," she barked. "NOW."
Eliana's father cast an irritated glance in Emilly's direction before he reluctantly tucked his gun away. But he didn't release his grip on Reid's shirt. "I don't need a gun to kill him," he hissed. Prentiss reacted the same way she always did to overly macho male posturing, with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.
"I'm going to need you to take your hands off my agent," she said, though her tone was slightly more gentle than it was when she told the man to holster his weapon. "I don't want to have to arrest you."
"Your agent needs to learn to keep it in his pants," Eliana's father barked back. "I read my daughter's medical report. There were bruises on her insides from before she was kidnapped."
Spencer sucked in a hard breath. He read the report himself. More than once. What he saw there made him feel terrible. He replayed everything that happened between himself and Eliana in his mind, trying to think of anything he might have done that might have hurt her. He was certain he didn't do anything to her that she didn't want. But given how distraught he was after he read that report, Spencer could only imagine how her father felt.
"I didn't hurt her," he promised. Spencer released his hold on the man's arm, displaying his open palms instead. "I would never hurt her."
"This isn't helping your daughter," Prentiss urged. She holstered her gun when Eliana's father put his away. But her hand was still resting on top of it. Just in case. Thankfully, she didn't have further need for the weapon. Eliana's father tightened his grip on Reid's shirt for just another split second. And then he released him. Reid slumped against the wall, pulling the collar of his shirt loose from around his neck where the fabric was biting into his skin.
The loud smack of Eliana's metal IV pole hitting the linoleum floor startled all of them. Her father turned, his eyes widening when he saw that his daughter was not only awake, but out of bed. Her hospital robe hung loose around her tiny body. She was standing near the foot of the bed with the plastic fork from Reid's takeout container clutched in her hand. She'd already pulled her IV catheter out of her arm. A small puddle of saline was forming on the floor near the bed. From the frightened look in her eyes, it was obvious that she woke up under the impression that she was still being held in Casanova's dungeon.
"You're at the hospital," Prentiss said. She was the only one out of the three of them that was able to assess the situation and gather her thoughts quickly enough to speak. "You're safe."
Eliana didn't seem convinced at first. Her eyes darted around the room until they finally settled on Spencer. Her face lit up. The plastic fork tinkled as it hit the floor. And then Eliana was rushing past her own father to throw herself into Spencer's arms. He hugged her back, forgetting all her minor injuries for the moment as he crushed her against his chest.
"You saved me," Eliana gushed. "I knew you would."
How certain Eliana was in her declaration made Prentiss smile. Eliana was wrong. Spencer didn't save her. She saved herself. But that didn't make what she said any less endearing. Her father, on the other hand, didn't look as impressed with the situation. He was clearly shocked and upset when his daughter darted by him like he wasn't even there. But when Eliana reached up, catching Spencer by the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss him, the look on her father's face quickly turned from shock into one of total horror and disgust. Prentiss scratched her nose and tried her best to hide the fact that she was now holding back laughter.
"Maybe we should step outside," she suggested, unable to stop the tight smirk that had formed on her face. Spencer had Eliana cradled gently in his arms. And he was shuffling across the room, making an attempt at getting her back into her hospital bed. But they were still locked together at the lips.
Her father cursed under his breath. "For fuckssakes…," he grumbled. He looked down at his boots. And then at Prentiss. Once more glance towards his daughter and he was ready to take Prentiss up on her suggestion "We better go get the doctor and let them know she's awake," he huffed.
While a few nurses surged into the room, another one went rushing down the hallway to fetch Eliana's doctor. It seemed paging the woman wasn't sufficient. Prentiss lowered herself down next to Eliana's father on a narrow hospital bench. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. Prentiss lifted her hand and set it on one of his broad shoulders. She gave him a gentle squeeze before she pulled her hand back, unsure of why she suddenly felt the urge to touch the man that just got done tossing Reid against a wall. She felt bad for him. She would feel sympathy for anyone in his position. But he still seemed like a major asshole. Or a General asshole, as the case was.
After taking a moment to collect himself, Eliana's father leaned back and scratched at the dark shadow of day old stubble on his face. "My daughter was missing and you know that beanpole in there didn't even have the decency to call me? Riley called me. I had to hear about it from him. After you fools arrested his dumbass for kidnapping a bunch of women." He turned, his eyes meeting hers before he continued. Unlike his daughter's, they were a striking icy blue beneath his hooded brows. Prentiss guessed that he wasn't typically the type of man to show any outward emotion or speak openly about his personal life, especially not to a complete stranger. But given everything that was going on, she caught him at a vulnerable moment. "You know he's gay, right? Annie broke up with him because she caught him carrying on some kind of online relationship with another man."
"We figured that out," Prentiss said.
"Some high level behavior analysis work there," he quipped. "...could tell that kid was light in the loafers in the first thirty seconds."
Prentiss sighed and shook her head, finding that she was fighting back a laugh for the second time since meeting the man at her side. "Did you tell your daughter what you thought about her fiance?," she asked.
"I told her he wasn't the one for her," he replied, gesturing towards the closed door of Eliana's hospital room. "You see how well she listens." He scrubbed his face with his hands. Then he gestured towards the door again. "I don't even know how to feel about that."
"You can feel nothing and you'll still get full credit for being alive," Prentiss teased, a small smile still playing at the corners of her lips. She wasn't expecting it when Eliana's father's posture changed. He sat back and turned slightly, so that he was facing her. He looked pleasantly surprised. And intrigued. Suddenly, Prentiss felt much more aware of how close they were to each other on the small hospital bench.
"Where the hell did that come from?," he asked, his eyes moving down over her body before they flicked back up to meet hers. "...do you go around quoting Vonnegut to everyone? Or is it just my lucky day?"
"How did you…," Prentiss gaped as her words trailed into nothingness. She didn't even get the quote completely right. She paraphrased it. And Eliana's father didn't even look like the type of man that would know who Kurt Vonnegut was. The fact that he caught the reference took her completely by surprise. Prentiss couldn't remember the last time she was surprised by anything anyone did, let alone a man. When he lifted his hand and offered it to her, she didn't hesitate to grasp it with her own.
"Aleksander Kaminski," he said, giving her another smile with his name. It didn't escape her notice that he didn't include any of his ranks or titles that went with his name. He wasn't introducing himself for professional reasons. And he surprised her for the second time when he offered her the shortened version of his name. The name that wasn't on his driver's license. The name that only his friends and family knew. "Xander."
"I'm supervisory special agent Emily Prentiss," she replied, wavering between wanting to put some professional distance between them and wishing the bench was smaller. One more look into the steel blue of his eyes and the wall around her cracked. "You can call me Emily."