Part 14- Short Circuit
Spencer smiled softly and sipped his ice water as he watched the team dancing. Luke twirled Penelope around under his arm. The glitter adorning Penelope's cheeks twinkled under the fairy lights draped across David's garden. It had been incredible to see the shift in Luke and Penelope's relationship from one of contempt, to them being relatively close friends. At times, sparks would fly between them as they looked in one another's gaze, suggesting that there could be more to their relationship. Matt and Christie bopped their hips in rhythm with each other. Christie still looked radiant, despite having recently given birth to their fifth child. Spencer was forever grateful to Matt for his help in getting his case moved back to the States when he had been arrested in Mexico. Krystall was entwined in David's arms, her back flush against his chest and his chin on her shoulder as they swayed. Tara danced alone like no one was watching, clicking her fingers and shaking her hips. Emily sidled up to Tara and joined her, shimmying her shoulders. JJ and Will had their arms around each other and were laughing at Penelope and Luke. Sadness welled in the pit of Spencer's stomach as he stared at his drink. He was merely weeks out of his discharge from hospital following his intracranial haemorrhage and had only just been signed off to return to work, though it would be highly likely that he would be confined to the police stations for the foreseeable future. He suddenly felt lonely. He had seen and heard very little from Max after their tumultuous encounter with Cat Adams. Not that he could blame her. Trauma seemed to follow him everywhere.
Spencer's hazel eyes flicked to the side as flashes of light appeared in his vision. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand but the flashes remained. He glanced up, hoping that it was a shorting light or a flicker of lightning but he could not see anything externally that could be causing his visual disturbance. The flashes grew in intensity, overpowering his vision. No one else had noticed anything out of the ordinary and continued to dance. His eyes trailed over to his right and his lips parted as though he was about to speak. He could feel shorting electricity running throughout his entire body. A thick bead of blood seeped out of his nose, trickling over his lips. His hand went into a spasm and released the glass tumbler, dropping it to the ground below his feet with a soft thump, water spilling into the fresh grass. Spencer's knees buckled, sending him crashing heavily to the ground. His head twisted to the right, his eyes blinking rapidly and his mouth twitching rhythmically. Small puffs of air left Spencer's mouth in time with the twitching, the muscles in his body tensing up. His long, slender fingers curled into claws by his sides and his head tilted back, his neck strained painfully.
It was at that moment that JJ took the opportunity to steal a glance at Spencer. She was infinitely grateful that they had managed to repair their friendship following her confession. The day she found him unconscious on his apartment floor had torn her heart into pieces. It took him almost two days to fully wake from that. As her cerulean blue eyes darted around looking for her best friend, she noticed movement from somewhere off to her left. Will glanced at her as she pulled away slightly to get a better look.
"Everythin' okay, darlin'?" came Will's Southern drawl. Will's deep brown eyes followed JJ's gaze to find Spencer lying in the grass, his body rigid. The pair ran over to him and Will dropped to his knees beside Spencer whose face still twitched rhythmically. Will loosened the genius' maroon tie and undone the three uppermost buttons on his light grey button down shirt to help him breathe.
"Spence?" asked JJ who made to reach down for the genius when Will threw out his arm to stop her.
"He's having a seizure. Give him some space. He'll come out of it." Spencer's head rocked back and forth, his face thudding against the ground, and jaw writhing. His gangly limbs jerked uncontrollably in every direction as the puffs of air turned to grunts. His lips had begun to turn a ghastly shade of blue. Bloodstained saliva ran over his stubbled jaw. Will's eyes kept flicking from the seizing man to his watch.
"Is he going to be okay?" asked JJ, desperate tears gathering on her lashes.
"He'll be fine. The doctor said that he has a seizure disorder after the bleed. If he hasn't stopped after five minutes, then we need to worry." The others seemed to have noticed the commotion and gathered behind JJ. Christie clapped her hand to her mouth in horror. Sweat trickled down Spencer's neck and under the collar of his shirt. His long, brown curls tangled into the grass. The bleeding from his nose was slowing, running over his cheek and into his hair. His limbs slowed their jerking, along with the twitching in his face until he stilled, his breathing evening out and his eyes closed.
"H-how long was it?" asked JJ anxiously.
"Three minutes and twenty two seconds. It's still okay." Will eased Spencer over onto his side. JJ knelt down in front of Spencer so that he would have a familiar face when he woke up and gently brushed some of his curls out of his face. After a few minutes, a slight grimace was etched into Spencer's features as he came to. The blood from his nose had clotted. His vision was blurred and it felt as though pieces of his memory had been cut out. His eyes rolled sluggishly in confusion.
"Hey, Spence. It's JJ. You're okay. You had a seizure." Spencer's face scrunched tighter. His lips parted slightly as though he wanted to speak.
"Reid? Are you okay?" asked Tara.
"Mmhmm... I sleepy..." slurred Spencer. It was heart wrenching for the team to see their usually articulate genius struggling to use his words like he was just learning how to talk.
"Let's get him upstairs to one of the spare rooms so he can get cleaned up and sleep it off," said David, a fatherly twinkle in his aged eye. Matt reached down and scooped Spencer up into a bridal carry. Spencer's head lolled forward and rested on Matt's chest as he was carried through the kitchen and up a short flight of wooden stairs to one of David's spare rooms. Krystall immediately filled the wash basin in the en suite bathroom with warm water and soaked a face cloth in it. Matt gently lay Spencer down on his right side on the king size bed. Spencer moaned softly and buried his face into the pillows. Krystall returned with the cloth and slightly turned Spencer's head to clean the blood from his face. He had superficial grazing to his right temple and dried blood on the inside of his right nostril. He barely reacted to Krystall gently wiping the blood and grass stains from his face.
"Sleep, figlio."
xxx
Spencer blinked several times. His mind felt jumbled and hazy. A cool face cloth had been folded and was draped over his forehead, water soaking into the front of his hair. He furrowed his brow as he pushed himself up into a seated position. He plucked the cloth from his head and dropped it onto the comforter beside his leg. His temple stung. Spencer glanced around at the room. It was dark, though a sliver of light crept through the door that had been left ajar. He could hear the muffled sounds of people talking and laughing. He could remember watching everyone dancing and having a good time, then everything went blank after that. With a groan at the dull throb rippling throughout his skull, Spencer swung his long legs over the side of the bed. He noticed that his converses had been taken off and were positioned next to the bed. His blazer, sweater and tie were folded neatly on the armchair. He leaned down to reach for his shoes when a wave of dizziness hit him like a bucket of ice water. He pressed his palm to his forehead and moaned softly. Deciding that his shoes could wait until the dizziness passed, Spencer stumbled out of the room, the lights piercing his corneas. He swayed slightly on the spot and reached for the hand rail. Taking each step slowly, he made his way down the stairs.
The rest of the team were seated in David and Krystall's sitting room, just generally enjoying one another's company and drinking wine. Luke was the first to notice Spencer's presence at the foot of the stairs. The genius looked bewildered and was taking small, careful steps as though he was going to fall at any given moment. Luke came to his feet and moved over to where Spencer clung to the hand rail to try and keep himself upright. He wrapped an arm around Spencer's thin waist. Spencer draped his arm around Luke's neck and shoulders for support. Luke guided Spencer clumsily to the sofa and set him down.
"How're you feeling, kiddo?" asked David. Penelope filled a glass tumbler with water and passed it to Luke who then handed it to Spencer. Spencer accepted it with trembling hands.
"What happened?" asked Spencer, eyes squinting against the light as he looked around.
"You had a tonic clonic seizure in the garden. A little over three minutes long," responded Will. Spencer frowned and nodded softly.
"Why does my head hurt?" mumbled Spencer as he reached for the sore spot on his forehead.
"You grazed your head on the floor when you were fitting," answered JJ.
"I'm sorry you guys had to see that."
"Do you have many of these?" asked Emily. Spencer cautiously shook his head.
"I've had maybe two or three since I got out of hospital. Nothing that long though. They're usually just complex partial seizures."
"The one you just had was like the ones you had right after your head injury," said Penelope.
"Why can I smell and taste copper?" Spencer's face scrunched in disgust at the foul metallic taste in his mouth.
"You had a nosebleed," responded Matt. Spencer dipped his head in shame.
"I'm sorry, guys. I ruined your night. I think I should head home."
"At least let me drive you," offered Luke. Spencer nodded. Luke gently patted Spencer on his knee and made his way upstairs to gather the genius' shoes and clothing. Spencer squirmed uncomfortably the pitying eyes staring at him.
xxx
Spencer pulled his blazer tight around his torso and stared blankly out of the window, watching as the buildings and street lamps zipped past. Guilt pooled in his stomach at the mere thought of ruining the party. This was why he didn't go to parties as a general rule of thumb. It was usually his endless facts and statistics that ruined things. Luke stole a glance at Spencer who appeared to be lost in his thoughts.
"You sure you're okay, Reid?" asked Luke.
"I ruined everything. Again."
"No, you didn't. You can't help a seizure coming on. Are your meds helping?" Spencer shook his head but kept his gaze focussed on the passing scenery.
"No. It's going to be a case of trial and error until they find the right medication and dosage."
"Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Just... Keep me safe and time my seizures. If I'm still seizing after five minutes, you'll need to call for an ambulance. I generally get an aura before they come on where I see flashing lights." Luke slowed to a halt in the parking lot of Spencer's apartment building. Luke was first out, quickly running to the passenger side of the car to help Spencer out. Spencer still swayed and moved sluggishly. With an arm around his waist, Luke guided Spencer into the building and up the two flights of stairs to his apartment. Spencer handed over his keys to Luke to open the door. Once the door was open, Luke dropped Spencer's keys into the bowl on the unit beside the door and aided the young man to his bedroom. Spencer did not even remove his shoes or his outer layers when he launched himself onto his bed and curled up in a ball. Luke chuckled and pulled the bedroom door partially closed behind him to allow some light to filter into the room.
"Sleep tight, Reid."
xxx
Three days later...
The BAU offices felt wrong without Penelope. Kevin Lynch had replaced Penelope as the technical analyst for the team, but it just did not feel the same. Spencer liked Kevin but he missed Penelope terribly. Spencer glanced up from the open file on his desk to see Tara and Luke playfully bickering and taunting each other. Matt and David were deep in conversation at Matt's desk, most likely about their upcoming collaboration on a collection of children's books. Emily and JJ chatted with each other in the break room over steaming cups of coffee. Kevin paced through the bullpen with a stack of manila folders under his arm.
"We have a case." Spencer gave Kevin a curt nod of acknowledgement, grabbed his mug of tepid coffee and made his way up the small flight of stairs and along the platform to the conference room. He took his usual spot by the window. The others filed in after him. Case presentation was not the same without Penelope's garishly bright outfits and her bubbly personality. Kevin looked the part of a classic nerd with his square spectacles, messy black hair and ugly patterned shirts. Spencer smiled despite himself at the thought that had once been him with the horrid shirts, sweater vests and khakis. Spencer glanced down at his black button up shirt and black dress trousers. His dress sense as an FBI agent had improved somewhat over recent years to the point whereby he finally looked the part. The monitor on the wall flicked on, a matte silver remote clasped in Kevin's hand.
"Morning, crime fighters. Today's case is in our own back yard in Washington so we'll be working the case from here. Three men have turned up dead behind dumpsters around DC. All of them have around thirty stab wounds."
"Anything connecting these guys?" asked Emily.
"No, ma'am," answered Kevin.
"So this unsub is probably impotent. Stabbing is his only way of getting any sexual gratification." The team continued to discuss the case, but Spencer could barely hear what they were saying. Blood trickled steadily from his nose and his eyes blinked rapidly. His fingers plucked rhythmically against the pages of the folder in front of him. His head was twisted slightly to his right. Tara glanced over to her left him and noticed that the doctor was seizing. She wadded up a handful of tissues and pressed them to Spencer's nose to stem the bleeding as she waited it out. After a minute or two, Spencer's hand stilled.
"Reid? Can you hear me?" Spencer gave a small groan as his chin fell to his chest.
"Wha-? Where?" slurred Spencer as he slowly lifted his head and gazed around at his team. All of their faces were painted in concern. A confused haze descended over Spencer's mind.
"You had a seizure, Reid. You're okay. You're safe," responded Tara, blood soaking through the tissues.
"Tired."
"You can lay down on the sofa in my office, Spence," offered Emily. "We're working the case from here any way." Luke and Matt eased Spencer up onto his weak feet with his arms around their shoulders, and guided him out of the conference room and along the small stretch of platform to Emily's office. They gently lay him down on the sofa, Matt supporting Spencer's shoulders and Luke supporting his legs. Spencer's eyes were closed before his head settled on the armrest of the sofa.
xxx
Spencer had woke up feeling somewhat dazed and very confused as to why he was lying down in Emily's office. The smell of blood lingering in his nostrils suggested that he had clearly had a seizure at work which was mortifying to him. He eased himself up into a seated position and glanced out through the pane of glass in Emily's door towards the bullpen. Everyone appeared to still be in the conference room. He pushed against his knees to help him up into a standing position. The room spun slightly but quickly righted itself. Spencer slowly made his way out of the office, down the few steps into the bullpen and into the men's restroom. He quickly relieved himself in the urinals and turned to the sink, scrubbing his hands harshly under the scalding hot water. He dried his hands and went to reach out for the door handle.
As Spencer reached for the handle, the familiar flashing lights appeared before his vision, much more bright and intense than he had ever known. His eyes rolled to the right and his knees weakened beneath him, sending him crumpling face first to the hard floor. His head thudded against the tiles with a sickening crack. Blood oozed out of a wound above his eye and pooled on the floor. More of the ruby liquid trickled out of his nose. There was a voice calling out to him but it sounded far away. His eyes blinked rapidly and his mouth twitched, noisy breaths leaving his bloody nose. His fingers clawed at the floor as every muscle fibre tightened, one hand up by his head and the other down by his side. It had been Luke that had been calling out to him. Luke dropped heavily to his knees beside Spencer, his hands hovering helplessly over the seizing man.
"Reid? You're okay." Luke observed the blood pooling under Spencer's head and face. He knew that he would not be able to move Spencer's six foot tall frame from where he lay face down. For all that he was a thin man, he would be a dead weight with every muscle in contraction. Luke started the timer on his wristwatch and watched.
Spencer's lips began to turn grey, the grunting noises echoing in the silent bathroom. His limbs began to jerk, flailing around without any purpose. His face hit the floor repeatedly, coating his face with more of the blood that had formed underneath him. His colour continued to drain from him in pools of crimson on the floor. Luke watched as the timer crept past three minutes. Spencer's body did not show any signs of the seizure stopping. Saliva drooled out of the corner of his mouth, mixing with the blood. His wrists and feet thumped loudly and rhythmically against the floor. Luke's heart plummeted as the timer passed four minutes. He quickly darted to his feet and threw open the bathroom door. He spotted Matt returning to his desk.
"I need some help in here!" yelled Luke. Matt did not hesitate in sprinting past the desks to the bathroom. He was horrified at the sight of Spencer seizing, covered in blood. He glanced, wide eyed at Luke.
"How long has he been like this for?"
"Over four minutes."
"I'm calling 911." Matt slid his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and dialled 911. He set it to loud speaker and gently lay it near Spencer's head.
"911. What's your emergency?"
"My name is SSA Matt Simmons. I need an ambulance to the sixth floor FBI Offices in Quantico. My colleague is having a tonic clonic seizure, now ongoing for five minutes. Possible head injury."
"Okay. Just make sure the patient's safe." Luke slipped Spencer's Smith and Wesson out of the holster on his hip, realising that it was pressing painfully into his abdomen. "Is that the patient I can hear in the background?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, the ambulance is coming to you right now on lights and sirens. I'll stay on the line with you until the crew are there." Spencer's limbs started to slow, as did the grunting.
"He's starting to come out of it," said Matt breathlessly.
"Okay. The crew are less than two minutes away. Can I take some patient details?"
"Dr Spencer Reid. Date of birth is the October 12th 1981."
"Thank you, sir. The crew have just pulled up. Where exactly is Dr Reid right now?"
"Men's bathroom, sixth floor in the BAU offices."
"Okay. How's he doing?"
"It looks like he's stopped fitting."
"Okay. I need you to get Dr Reid on his side and support his head." Matt slid his hand under Spencer's collar bones to shift the genius' upper body and Luke manoeuvred Spencer's hips so that he was on his side. His curls clung to the blood and sweat on his face. Luke reached over and unfastened the upper buttons on Spencer's shirt. The black fabric was sodden with blood. A neat gash snaked across his forehead. Matt clamped both of his palms firmly against either side of Spencer's face, tilting his head back slightly.
A pair of medics bustled into the bathroom. Luke shuffled back out of the way to let them in. They quickly got to work, rolling him onto his back. A suction catheter was pushed into the side of Spencer's parted lips. Blood and saliva drained away with a sickening gurgle. A curved plastic airway was inserted into Spencer's mouth, resting on the back of his tongue. Luke scrunched his face in confusion.
"What's that for?" asked Luke.
"It helps keep the airway open." An oxygen mask was firmly placed over Spencer's nose and mouth. His shallow breaths lightly misted the clear plastic. One of the medics peeled open each of Spencer's eyes and shone her pen torch into them.
"Pupils are equal and reacting. Dr Reid, can you hear me?" She received no response. She turned to Luke. "How long was he seizing for?"
"Six minutes."
"Does he have a history of epilepsy?"
"Uh, yeah he sustained an intracranial bleed six weeks ago and has had seizures since. He had a smaller seizure earlier today. Complex partial I think." Spencer's shirt was torn open and electrodes pressed to his bare, clammy chest which were connected to the portable EKG beside the medic's knee. A blood pressure cuff was secured around his upper left arm and an oxygen monitor was clipped on the tip of his finger.
"GCS is currently three. Heart rate is very high at one forty two," reported the other medic.
"Could you just let go of his head for me? I need to see if he can hold his head up to maintain his own airway." Matt slowly moved his hands away but Spencer's head flopped forward. "Okay, let's get a c-collar on him until he comes round." Matt gently tilted Spencer's head back and supported it in place whilst the medic slid a plastic collar underneath his neck and pulled it over the front so that his jaw rested on it, securing it with the Velcro strap.
The medic glanced down to find Spencer's long, thin fingers curling in on themselves, nails scratching against the tiles. "Dr Reid? Can you hear me?" Spencer's eyes opened into narrow slits and turned to the right. Small grunting sounds came from his throat, muffled by the airway and mask. His limbs tensed and a fresh stream of blood left his nose.
"He's going again! Let's give him a stat dose of Ativan!" A cannula was quickly and efficiently inserted into the back of Spencer's clenched hand and taped down before he could start jerking again. A syringe was clicked into the cannula and the plunger pressed down, forcing the clear liquid into Spencer's veins. The convulsions barely had time to set in before the medication got to work. Spencer's eyes drifted shut once again.
"Let's get him loaded up!" The two medics worked in tandem with one another, gathering Spencer up, one grasping under his arms and the other supporting his ankles. They lifted the surprisingly light agent up onto the gurney and buckled the straps across his chest and legs. The EKG and oxygen canister was dropped onto the gurney beside Spencer's legs.
xxx
The doors to the emergency room crashed open and the gurney wheeled through at speed. Luke had ridden in the ambulance with Spencer, grasping his icy cold hand and willing the unconscious man back to the realm of the living. Luke watched helplessly as the gurney disappeared in a blur of colour through another set of doors labelled 'Resus'. With a sigh, he dropped heavily into a plastic chair in the waiting area. He slipped his cell phone out of his pocket to find he had several messages and missed calls from the other team members. He quickly typed out a message.
Reid has just been taken into resus. No word yet. Alvez.
xxx
Had Spencer been conscious, he would have been blinded by the bright white lights of the resuscitation room. The gurney ground to a halt. Several nurses surrounded him, connecting him to various machines.
"This is Dr Spencer Reid. Thirty nine year old male. He has a known seizure disorder following an intracranial haemorrhage six weeks ago. Had a complex partial seizure earlier today, followed by a tonic clonic seizure thirty minutes ago that lasted six minutes. He went on to start having a further tonic clonic seizure when we were on scene, however one milligram of Ativan as given to good effect and prevented the seizure progressing. Open wound to forehead from blunt force trauma where he hit his head on the floor. Blood pressure a little high at one-thirty over one hundred. Heart rate one forty two. SATs at ninety four on oxygen. Temp sitting at ninety eight point four. GCS three. Pupils equal and reacting. One litre normal saline given on route."
"Okay, let's get him to CT and then get him straight to CCU." The gurney was wheeled at speed out of the room and down another dark corridor.
Xxx
Luke tapped his foot rhythmically against the floor, his hands clasped between his parted knees and his head bowed. A firm hand squeezed his shoulder. Luke lifted his head to see Matt stood beside him with a small, comforting smile on his face. The rest of the team had followed behind him and gathered around Luke. Penelope was laden with bags of gifts and balloons, having cleared the gift shop. JJ perched on the chair next to Luke and rested a palm on his bouncing knee.
"What happened?" asked JJ in a low voice.
"I heard a noise from the men's restroom. When I went in, Reid was fitting on the floor. There was blood everywhere from his head. I guess he hit his head when he went down. I had to get help from someone when he was still fitting after four minutes. Matt came in and called 911. Reid finally stopped fitting when the paramedics got there but then started again a few minutes later. They gave him some medication to control it. They took him straight back there." Luke jabbed a thumb towards the doors his friend had been taken through. "I've not heard anything since." A tall dark-haired woman approached wearing green medical scrubs and a freshly pressed white coat. Her stethoscope was draped around her neck and her hair was held up by a pen. Her piercing blue eyes searched the several people in the waiting room.
"Family of Spencer Reid?" The team quickly surrounded the doctor. She smiled and firmly shook Emily's hand. "I'm Dr Matthews. I'm a critical care consultant. I understand that permission has been given to share this information with you all from his medical proxy. Dr Reid has been immensely lucky. The intracranial haemorrhage has remained stable so far. There is some slight swelling around his brain which we will have to monitor closely for a few days. If the swelling worsens, we may need to look at a craniotomy to relieve the pressure, but for now we're just going to manage things conservatively. We've had to put seven stitches into the wound on his forehead.
There is some superficial bruising to his limbs and face from where they've connected with the floor. Dr Reid did start to briefly wake in the scanner but he's sleeping now. I will need to assess his cognitive functions when he awakes fully as seizing for more than five minutes can be dangerous. When someone has a seizure, their oxygen levels drop drastically as they're unable to breathe properly. Dr Reid was seizing for six minutes so he only just entered the danger zone. His oxygen levels are back into safe levels now. Your friend is a fighter. Most people require life support at this point but he is breathing on his own. It's likely Dr Reid will be unconscious for the next couple of days and when he does wake, he won't be able to stay awake for long. He'll be very groggy and confused."
"So, is he going to be okay?" asked JJ. Dr Matthews smiled warmly.
"He's not out of the woods yet, but he is putting up one hell of a fight. I'll allow all of you to see him for a few minutes, but policy says I can only allow one person to stay with him." The doctor tilted her head for the team to follow her.
The group were stopped just before a clear glass window that had CCU 247 printed in black lettering across the bottom. Dr Matthews gestured to the group and kept her voice low.
"I ask that you keep it down and don't stress Dr Reid out. It's empirical that his blood pressure is kept down. A sudden spike in blood pressure could cause him to stroke out." Several heads bobbed in response. Dr Matthews slid the door open and allowed the group to filter into the room. Their resident genius suddenly looked tiny and frail in the bed. His skin had been cleansed of the blood that had smeared his face. A large bandage was taped over the stitched wound on his forehead. Bruising swirling in shades of red and purple extended down and around his left eye. His slightly parted lips were dry and cracked. An oxygen cannula rested under his nose. Coloured wires snaked out from the collar of his hospital gown and were connected to the monitor that beeped in time with his heart. The IV cannula was taped to his left hand and lead to a bag of clear fluid that hung on a stainless steel stand at the side of the bed. A blood pressure cuff was fastened snugly around Spencer's upper left arm. A small white object was clipped to the tip of one his long, spindly fingers to measure his oxygen levels. A mesh cap with dozens of wires had been fitted to Spencer's head and was connected to another monitor that jumped steadily. Luke frowned at the object.
"What's that on his head?" asked Luke as he spun to face the doctor.
"It's an electroencephalography monitor. EEG for short. It's used to measure electrical activity in the brain. We're going to monitor his seizure activity with this and video recording. It's what we call video telemetry. It'll help us see exactly what Dr Reid is experiencing when he has a seizure, and to gauge the part of the brain affected. We will be working very closely with neurology so we can get him set up on an anticonvulsant regime." Penelope dropped heavily into the plastic chair at the side of the bed and grasped Spencer's cold hand. There was no response to her touch. She gently rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.
"Oh, baby boy. I need you to open those pretty eyes real soon. I remember that they're gold on the inside."
"May I stay with him?" asked Luke. Penelope glared up at him, her mouth open in horror.
"No you may not, newbie! It's my job as fairy godmother to take care of my boy genius." Emily firmly gripped Luke's shoulder.
"Please go and get some rest, Alvez. Garcia's got it from here. Not that she plans to budge anytime soon. You've done well today." Luke let out a defeated sigh and nodded. "Call me if anything happens, Pen." Penelope nodded and set her bags down on the floor beside the chair. The team uttered their goodnights before filing out of the room, leaving the technical analyst and their unconscious genius.
xxx
Penelope had just finished putting the finishes touches to decorating the room. A few of Spencer's Dr Who models lined the bedside table. A stuffed bear with a bandaged head was cradled under Spencer's left arm. Foil balloons bobbed behind the machines. A small whine and the rapid beeping from the EKG startled Penelope out of her reverie. She whirled around on her heel to see Spencer's fingers grasping at the pale green blanket drawn to his waist and his face scrunched as though in pain.
"Spence?" She glanced up to see both the EEG and EKG spiking. Spencer's eyes partially opened and rolled to the right side. His fingers clenched the blanket into a tight grip. His eyes blinked rhythmically and his jaw writhed. Blood began to seep from his nose. A keening noise sounded from the depths of his throat and his head bounced against the pillow. His limbs jerked harshly against the bed. Penelope's eyes filled with tears.
"Spencer? I know you can hear me. You're safe. Just focus on my voice." Just as the staff bustled into the room, Spencer's jerking slowed to a halt. His mews quieted and his eyes slipped shut. Knowing that she was no longer in danger of being hurt, Penelope reached over the bedrail for Spencer's hand. His fingers lay limply against hers. Dr Matthews set about printing Spencer's EEG readings from the machine, a long slip of paper trailing out of the machine. She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the readings.
"His seizures appear to be primarily coming from the left frontal lobe where he had the haemorrhage. It's hard to pin point the trigger for the seizures right now. Once Dr Reid is awake and cognizant, I'm going to need to run him through some light and stress tests to determine the trigger. I suspect that he will have more whilst there is swelling around his brain. I'm going to set him up on a course of steroids to bring the swelling down faster." Penelope gently raked her fingers through Spencer's deep brown curls and used her silk handkerchief to clean the blood from his face.
"Come back to me, my junior G-man. I need to hear your voice."
xxx
It was only opening his eyes... So why did it feel so difficult? Every millimetre of him felt heavy. Spencer fought against the weight of the darkness that was trying to pull him under. He managed to open his eyes to small slivers. Everything was blurred and confusing. He could hear a loud beeping first, strong and steady. A soft clicking sound pierced through the beeping. Awareness slowly crept through every pore. He could feel the slight pressure from the oxygen being rushed through his nose. The uncomfortable hospital gown that he wore. Spencer managed to force his eyes open further. Everything was still blurred, shades of mint green and white merging into one. A weak moan left his lips. A pair of black, square-framed spectacles were seated on his nose, the arms sliding gently over the tops of his ears and the tubing for the oxygen cannula. Everything clicked into focus. He was in a hospital.
"W-w...wh..." Spencer frowned as he struggled to get his word out. "W-w-wh-where a-am I?" Spencer's speech sounded slurred, as though he had overdone it on the beers.
"You're in the hospital, sweetie." Spencer turned his head slightly to see Penelope seated in the chair beside the bed, a partially knitted scarf hanging from her needles.
"Wh-wh-why?" Spencer's fingers tightened into fists and clenched his teeth.
"You had a huge seizure in the bathroom at work. You've had another two since." Spencer shook his head in disbelief.
"Wh-why c-can't I-I g-get m-m-my w-words out?"
"The bleed has damaged the Broca's area of your brain. It has triggered a stutter and a degree of aphasia. Your seizures are coming from this area too," came Dr Matthews' voice from behind Penelope. Spencer furrowed his brow.
"Wh-wh-what c-can I-I do?" Spencer looked as though his world had been flipped upside down.
"Speech therapy will help you with you stutter and aphasia. Now, we need to run a few tests so I'll be organising an MRI, as well as using light and stress in an EEG to find your seizure triggers. I have had a discussion with Professor Quinn who is our leading neurosurgeon who suspects that you have epilepsy as a result of the haemorrhage. He will also be tailoring a treatment plan to help you with your seizures. I do need to run some cognitive tests in the mean time. First of all, can you tell me your full name?"
"D-Dr S-S-Spencer W-W-Walter R-Reid."
"Excellent. And your date of birth?"
"T-t-twelfth of O-October n-n-n-nineteen eh-eighty one."
"Very good. What is the year?"
"T-t-twenty n-n-nineteen."
"And the current president?"
"T-T-Trump."
"Perfect. Your memory seems to be intact and your recall is good. You have been very lucky in the fact that you were without sufficient oxygen for six minutes. I would have expected a degree of amnesia, but it appears that you have narrowly escaped that. Now, I'd like to look at your co-ordination. I'd like you to hold your finger out in front of your face and bring it back to touch your nose." Spencer raised a trembling hand and held up his left index finger. He slowly brought it to his face and touched the tip of his nose. "Excellent. Now the other one." He raised his other hand and held up the finger supported by the oxygen monitor. He carefully brought it to his nose. "Well done, Dr Reid. Okay, quick check of your reflexes." Dr Matthews produced a small rubber circle on a stick and tapped it harshly against Spencer's right knee. His leg jerked in response. She moved to the left knee and repeated the action. The response was slightly less dramatic.
"Hmm. Slightly reduced reflex in left knee..."
"I-I-I h-have a p-p-prosthetic n-n-knee. Th-there w-w-was a-a l-lot of d-d-damage."
"Ah. That makes sense. So that's not new for you?" Spencer shook his head slightly. "Okay. So cognitive functions appear to be intact and co-ordination is good. I'll get the scan and EEG test arranged." Spencer stared at the blanket through heavy-lidded eyes. Penelope gently rested a hand on Spencer's forearm.
"Spence? Are you okay?"
"M-m-my s-s-s-speech... Wh-wh-who's g-going t-to l-listen t-to a s-stuttering- a-agent?"
"The stutter isn't permanent, baby boy. If there's anyone who can overcome it, it's you. You need to cut yourself some slack." Spencer fiddled mindlessly with the blanket draped over his legs.
"A-am I t-too d-d-damaged t-to b-b-be a-an a-agent?"
"Why would you think that?" Spencer gestured weakly to his temple. "Seizures can be controlled with medication and you can get your speech back with therapy. You can still have a full life as an agent." Penelope noticed Spencer's eyes sliding shut. She eased him back into his pillows and noticed the tear stains on his cheeks.
xxx
Eight months later...
Spencer had been settled back into the BAU for two months. He smiled softly at the pile of manila folders in his tray on his desk. Clearly, JJ, Luke, Matt and Tara had slipped him some of theirs. After all, he could read twenty thousand words per minute and completed paperwork in a fraction of the time it took them. He was finally on a medication regime that controlled his seizures. He begrudged taking three different medications for his epilepsy but he knew it was necessary. He had been seizure-free for over a month. His driving license had been revoked, but that did not matter much to Spencer- he rarely drove and preferred to use the subway anyway. He had promised the team that he would inform them if he felt a seizure coming on and had been provided a buccal medication that the team had been trained to give if he had a seizure lasting for five minutes.
Spencer glanced up at the offices. The lights in David's office were comfortably dimmed and the door was open, whereas Emily's was blindingly bright and her door was closed. He slowly eased himself to his feet and weaved past the team's desks. He took each step up to the walkway sluggishly and made his way to David's office. He leaned heavily against the door and rapped gently with his knuckles. David glanced up from his desk where he was cleaning his Glock.
"Spencer? Are you okay?" David frowned.
"I-I t-think I'm g-going to h-have a seizure." David automatically came to his feet and supported the young man into the room and onto the couch.
"Are you getting auras?" Spencer nodded. "Okay, give me your gun and get comfortable." Spencer slid his Smith and Wesson out of the holster at his hip and handed it over. He fumbled with his navy blue silk tie, loosening the knot and unfastened the upper three buttons on his lilac button-down shirt. Blood slipped out of his nose. He weakly brushed it away. He lay down on his back on the couch, his much too long legs hanging over the opposite arm. Dave tucked a cushion under Spencer's head and knelt down in front of the couch. A small groan left the genius' throat and his head tilted back slightly.
"You're okay, kiddo. You're safe." Spencer's head tipped to his right and his eyes rolled to the side. David started the timer on his watch. Spencer's fingers clenched together into fists and his arms contracted tightly into right angles, his elbows pressing into the cushions. Small grunts left Spencer's writhing jaw. The blood trickled over lips and dripped onto the fabric of his shirt. His back arched and his limbs jerked rhythmically. David waited it out, his dark eyes flicking between the young doctor and his watch.
After two and a half minutes, Spencer's jerking slowed. His eyes slipped shut and his breathing evened out. His arms dropped limply onto the cushions. David brushed some of Spencer's unruly curls away from his sweat-beaded brow. A small moan sounded and Spencer's head turned back to face the ceiling. His brow was furrowed, confusion evidently written into his features as his hazy eyes opened.
"You're okay, Reid. You're safe. You had a tonic clonic seizure. Two and a half minutes. You're on the couch in my office." Spencer's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. The blood had started to clot on his face. His lips parted slightly as though he were about to speak. David grasped Spencer's left hand.
"Th-thanks, D-Dave." His eyes began to droop. "I-I'm r-really t-tired..."
"It's okay, figlio. Sleep." Spencer hummed in response and curled up on the couch, bringing his lanky knees to his chest. David came to his feet and dragged the patchwork blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the genius' sleeping form. David smiled as he looked down at the young man sleeping soundly. His heart clenched. How much more could Spencer take?