Morgan stood outside the detention facility leaning up against the wall. His hands were still shaking violently from the visceral reaction he'd had no more than ten minutes before. He had once again been devastated. He should have expected it. Of course Maloney wasn't going to send them out satisfied by a job well done. Of course he was going to stick the boot in and Morgan had given him everything he wanted. Maloney had likely assumed they already knew about the bite marks. Why wouldn't they? So Morgan had probably given him an even better show than he was expecting. The thought made him sick with anger.
The first thought that crossed his mind after John clicked his teeth together was Reid standing in his spare bedroom after nearly scrubbing his skin off. His chest had been covered in bite marks. Some superficial, some that would likely scar. Reid had never mentioned them, but he knew, some would still be there. The three in those pictures would definitely scar. And no doubt, there was one from each of them. Like a personal stamp on his body to show they had 'been there'. The thought made him want to vomit. But more than anything, it made him want to give Reid a hug and tell him it was all going to be okay. That no matter what, he was still the Spencer Reid they all know and love and there's nothing and no one that could ever take that away from him.
He didn't even know if Reid was aware of the injuries himself. He hadn't shown any discomfort, hadn't mentioned them and if he'd had any treatment for them he'd certainly kept it a secret. Probably hoping that no one would ever learn of them. At least before they were fully healed anyway.
When Morgan thought about the scars that now marred Reid's body, it made him want to weep. He had bite marks on his chest, now on his back too. What he had been told would be a large incision scar on his abdomen from where they had nearly killed him. Permanent marks around his wrists from where Jason's chains had painfully dug into the flesh and rubbed them raw. A scar from a stab wound in the back of his thigh and worst of all, the sickening 'epithet' of 'MINE' carved into his forearm. Morgan wondered if Reid could ever bring himself to look in the mirror. He knew that if the roles were reversed, he likely wouldn't.
At 29 years old, Reid had suffered more in 4 months than most people do in a lifetime. And still people were trying to hurt him. The things Maloney had said in that interview would haunt him forever. The lack of respect and total disregard for Reid as a human being was sickening. Logically he knew that's the profile of a psychopath: dehumanising their victims, placing the blame on them, feeling no guilt or remorse, an inability to feel any empathy for the victim's suffering. He was textbook in that respect. But the levels of sadism in the man were something he'd rarely come across. It reminded him of Billy Flynn. And that was a name he didn't recall lightly. He remembered the horror he felt at his crimes. He remembered how sick he had felt that Kristin Spicer had been so brutally beaten during her repeated rape despite being unable to fight back. The thought that Reid would fall victim to someone similarly sadistic only two years later was unthinkable. And he wasn't the only one. Morgan couldn't decide who he hated more, Jason or John.
His mind drifted to Reid in his hospital bed, imagining what he was thinking and feeling whilst he was all alone. He hoped he didn't feel abandoned. Perhaps he just needed to know that they were fighting to see him, even if he said he didn't want them to. He probably felt embarrassed and humiliated and didn't want to be seen as a burden. He was always quick to take the blame upon himself and apologise for any disruption to their daily lives. Perhaps felt unclean, unlikeable, undeserving of love. Morgan recalled those feelings well.
He pulled out his phone and dialled the hospital. Within a few rings a female voice answered confirming that it was Reid's ward he had called.
"Morning." Morgan was surprised to hear how shaky his voice was when he finally used it again. "I'm just calling to see if Spencer Reid is accepting visitors yet."
"One moment please." He could hear distant voices communicating with each other. He crosses his fingers in the hope that Reid may have come back to his senses. The voice returned to the phone. "Hi, who's calling please?"
"I'm his friend, Derek Morgan."
"I'm afraid he's still not accepting visitors." Morgan's shoulders dropped. He was more than desperate to see him now.
"Could you pass on a message to him, please?"
The voice sounded unsure. "Um... sure. Let me just grab a pen." He heard the rustle of papers and the jostling of the phone. "Okay, go ahead."
Morgan spoke slowly, allowing her time to take down the message word for word."Can you please tell him I'm always going to be here for you and I understand if you don't want to see anyone right now, but... I love you," his voice broke slightly, "and I always will. And nothing will ever change that."
"Okay, I will pass that on."
"Thank you. Can I also ask, is he due to be discharged tomorrow?"
"I'm afraid I can't provide that information." The nurse said firmly.
" Don't give me that." Morgan said, rolling his eyes. "He's supposed to be coming home with me so I can take care of him. Unless you're going to let him leave the hospital alone when he's recovering from a Laparotomy?" Morgan couldn't stop the bite from entering his tone.
"Oh, one moment please." Morgan rolled his eyes again. This was like pulling teeth. Again, voices were heard on the other end. The next thing he knew, a male voice had taken over the call.
"Hello, Derek Morgan?"
"Hi, that's me."
"I'm Dr. Phillips." His voice was deep and authoritative. "I've been informed that you were under the understanding that Spencer Reid would be going home with you upon discharge?"
"Yes, that's right." He responded, brows furrowed. He was getting a bad feeling here.
"That's no longer the case. He wishes to go home independently once he is deemed fit."
"What?!" Morgan's stomach dropped and his voice sounded choked. "He cant do that."
"It's his choice." The doctor said simply.
"But he needs to be with people who care about him. Who can look after him. Surely you must understand that. Can you not talk to him?"
"I'm afraid I cannot discuss this any further with you." There was a finality in the doctor's voice that angered Morgan.
"This cannot be what's best for him! Surely you can see that he'd be better off in an environment where he can be supported by people who love him!"
Hotch and Rossi had now emerged from the Detention Centre and were stood to Morgan's left. Their attention had been caught by the conversation he was having.
"If a patient feels they would be happier on their own, I must reiterate, that is their choice."
"Can you at least tell me when he's leaving?" Morgan's voice was slightly frantic now.
"I'm afraid not." The doctor said in a voice that sounded cold, but in reality he was hating this conversation. There wasn't a single person on that ward who thought he was making the right choice. But communicating that to him was not a fun scenario. He was cold, dismissive and immovable. Most of the staff avoided interacting with him as much as they could as it was like pulling teeth. They felt bad as they knew it was the trauma, but they looked forward to him leaving. One visit to his room could bring their mood down for hours.
"So I'm just supposed to leave him alone, with no idea where he is or how he's doing?!" Morgan was desperate now. His chest felt tight. Rossi and Hotch exchanged glances.
"I understand that this decision has come as a surprise to you. But I can assure you, he will be well taken care of until he is ready to take care of himself. If he wants to be independent there is nothing we can do."
Morgan's grip tightened on the phone. He was getting nowhere. "Fine. You know what? You can tell him I don't care anymore." He said petulantly. "If he wants to push me away then that's fine. He can be by himself. I'm sick of it."
"Mr. Morgan-"
"No, I'm done!" He cancelled the call and angrily pulsed his fist around his phone.
"Morgan? What's going on?" Hotch stepped towards him, his face stern. Morgan shook his head angrily. He felt furious. He couldn't believe Reid would do this after everything. He thought they were best friends, that Reid trusted him. Clearly that was not the case. He'd rather stay in hospital and go back to an apartment where he was brutalised than come back with him. Last time, being kept in hospital was Reid's worst nightmare. But now it was preferable to Morgan's house. After everything he had done for him, that stung.
"He's not coming home with me. He'd rather stay in hospital until he can go home alone."
"You're kidding." Hotch looked genuinely surprised. Rossi closed his eyes in disappointment.
"He hates me. I couldn't help him and now he hates me." Morgan brought his hand up to his face.
"I'm sure that's not the case." Rossi tried.
"Well he can just get on with it. I'm done. I don't know what more I can do! Fuck it!" Morgan was winding himself up. His emotions were swinging between angrily blaming himself and a defensive fury.
"You don't mean that, Morgan." Hotch consoled. Morgan suddenly launched his phone at the ground, smashing it. He rounded on Hotch.
"Don't tell me what I mean! I have done everything for that kid. And now he doesn't want to know? Well that's perfectly fine. Fuck him. Fuck Maloney. Fuck Jason. Fuck it all! He can deal with it himself and see where that gets him!" Hotch's mouth fell open a little but before he could speak, Morgan was storming away. Rossi was tight lipped, his hand leaning against the wall and a pained expression on his face.
"He'll regret saying that when he calms down." Rossi said with his brows furrowed.
"I know." Hotch said despondently. Hotch stood for a short while, deep in thought then sucked in a breath through his teeth. "What is he playing at, Dave?"
"Who? The kid?" Hotch eyed him and shook his head in frustration. It was clearly starting to get to Hotch too. "He's shutting down. It's... worrying." Rossi looked thoughtful. "I can't say I blame him. If I'd been in a room with that man and he'd done to me what he's done to him, honestly I'm not sure what I'd do. Add Jason to that and well, sometimes I think we're lucky he's still drawing breath."
"Dave, you don't think he's..." Hotch couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Suicidal?" Rossi said bluntly. "Wouldn't you be?" Hotch stared at him hard. Rossi's directness was sometimes hard to swallow. "That kid has had his life ripped to shreds. Every single person he has put his trust in has either hurt him or let him down in one way or another. I'm not surprised he doesn't want anyone around him. He probably doesn't know what the hell is going to happen next."
"None of us would ever hurt him, Dave."
"I know that. But we didn't protect him either. Hell, I walked him right into Maloney's grasp. I pushed for him to go home with Nick. This one is on me."
"No, it's not. The only people to blame are Nick, Maloney and his men."
"Regardless, Reid's safest space was Morgan. And that jagoff has done a perfect job of showing him that he's not a safe space at all. He's done exactly what he set out to do, which is show him that no matter what choices he makes, he's powerless when it comes to protecting himself."
"So what do we do? Just sit back and wait until we hear he's done something stupid?"
Rossi smiled sadly. "There's nothing we can do whilst he's in hospital. We just have to trust that they will keep an eye on him. Once he's out, that's a different matter."
Hotch furrowed his brows. "He's not going to let anyone in."
"Well it's a good job I have his spare keys then isn't it. If need be I will sit there 'til he comes home and drag him round to Morgan's."
"You can't do that, Dave." Hotch looked at him eyebrows quirked.
"I can and I will. He's not shutting us out so he can let himself rot. He's come through too much to give up now. We all have."
"That's not going to do any good." Hotch responded sadly.
"Well if you've got any better ideas, I'm all ears." Rossi snapped. This was clearly getting to him just as much. Hotch simply looked at him and sighed.
"I have no idea what to do for the best but I'm pretty sure squatting in his apartment and kidnapping him isn't the way to go about it." Hotch said with a slight smile. As brilliant as Rossi was, at times, his age showed. There was a tactlessness about him on occasion, especially when he felt passionate. He always meant well but sometimes he would use a bulldozer when a gentle nudge would suffice.
Rossi smiled despite himself, realising he had taken something of a diversion. "Okay, I'll put a pin in that." He shot a look at Hotch. "For now...In the meantime, we have an FBI Agent to find." He bent down and picked up Morgan's phone, grimacing at the smashed screen. He moved in the direction Morgan had headed but Hotch didn't follow. Rossi stopped and turned, realising that Hotch was deep in concerned thought.
"What's wrong?" Rossi asked.
Hotch frowned. "What do you think he meant by 'all good things must come to an end'?" Rossi furrowed his brows.
"I'm not sure he meant anything. He was playing games."
"It was the look in his eyes when he said it. Like he knew something I didn't."
"He's a psychopath, Aaron. These guys are experts at manipulating thoughts and emotions."
"I know. But Dave, when have you ever seen a psychopath actively offer to confess and plead guilty? Typically they don't accept responsibility for their crimes. Most would be more likely to place the blame on Reid than they would themselves."
"Very rarely. But whenever it does happen we just have to be grateful for it. You got it and you never have to deal with that scumbag again."
"Hmm..." Hotch clearly wasn't satisfied. Something about his whole demeanour in that moment had seemed 'off'. "I don't know, Dave. I just have a bad feeling. He still has to enter his guilty plea in court."
"Well let's worry about that when we get to it." He moved back to Hotch and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, my friend. Let's find Morgan."
A gentle knock sounded at the door. Reid was sat in the chair next to his bed with his head resting back and his eyes closed. He had asked for some earplugs earlier in the day. It wasn't something he did very often anymore but when he did, he found it incredibly comforting. The silence was calming and separated him from the world somehow. Like he was hidden in his own little cave.
Bright lights, people, colours and sounds were all overwhelming at the moment. He did not have the energy to cope with them. All he wanted to do was just sit and wallow in the darkness. It made him feel protected and not so much on display.
He suddenly felt a hand nudge his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. His hands went straight up to protect his face and his eyes were wide. His stomach and back throbbed at the movement. He looked up to see Dr. Phillips holding his hands out to him in a placating manner. He was talking and he could hear the murmuring of his voice from behind the earplugs. Taking a calming breath, Reid reached to pull the plugs out, wincing as his incision complained.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Reid. I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't sure how else to get your attention."
Reid shook his head, not making eye contact and laughed a little in embarrassment.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He winced as the incision sent a shooting pain across his abdomen.
"Are you in pain?" Dr. Phillips asked gently.
"I'm okay. Its just a twinge." He answered, squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of pain ran across his stomach.
Dr. Phillips perched himself on the bed next to Reid and sat patiently, waiting for the pain to pass. This was the most responsive he had been since he met him. He'd been incredibly insular so far, giving one word answers for the most part. He'd barely even seen the young man's eyes. It was as if he was hiding from everything and everyone.
Reid tilted his head back as the pain subsided. His eyes were watering slightly.
"Dr. Reid, would you like some stronger pain killers?" He tried gently. He knew what the answer would be but his duty of care said he had to try.
"No." Reid said quickly. "I'm fine.'
"Okay. How is your back?" Reid's cheeks flushed red and he looked down.
"Okay." He muttered quietly.
"I will need to send a nurse in later to change the dressings." Reid just nodded depressively. "Dr. Reid, a Derek Morgan left a message for you at the desk." Reid frowned and kept his gaze on the floor. "Dr. Reid?"
Reid finally looked up. This was the first time Dr. Phillips had received eye contact from him and it made him shudder. There was so much hurt in those eyes. For the first time he actually felt something for him. As awful as that sounded, feeling anything for someone who had been so dismissive and austere had proved difficult, despite his reasons for being there and Dr. Marston's insistence that deep down he was a gentle and kind soul. This was the first time he could actually believe it. At that moment, all he wanted to do was reach out and put a hand to his shoulder. Instead, he held out the note the nurse had taken down at the desk.
"He cares about you deeply." He said, his gaze softening. Reid's eyes dropped down to the note. The doctor could see an internal battle playing out in his mind. He could tell he wanted to take it but something was stopping him. "Dr. Reid?" He said gently, trying to coax him into taking the piece of paper. After a few more seconds of internal debate, Reid's hand reached out for the note. He took it and opened it gingerly.
Spencer Reid from Derek Morgan
I'm always going to be here for you and I understand if you don't want to see anyone right now, but I love you. I always will and nothing will ever change that.
Reid stared long and hard at the note, his face unreadable. The only detectable change was a slight increase in his breathing rate.
Sensing that he had finished the note, Dr. Phillips continued. "He called earlier, wanting to know if he could come in and see you. He was really upset to learn that you want to go home by yourself. He was going to take care of you for a while, make sure you're okay. Do you not think that's a good idea?"
Reid kept staring at the note in a trance. As if his mind had gone to another place.
Dr. Phillips leaned forward. "Dr. Reid? Are you still with me?"
Reid blinked a couple of times and looked up at the Doctor. "We're not together." Reid said suddenly. "I know it says I love you, but he's not my partner." He said by way of explanation. His face looked so worried. As though he was being judged. For some reason he had to let this man know.
"I didn't think he was." Dr. Phillips smiled gently. "Even if he was though, there's nothing wrong with that." He said reassuringly, covering his bases.
"I don't have sex with him. It's not like that, we are just friends. I've worked with him for years-" His cheeks were now bright red and he was fumbling through his words as he realised that his previous sentence could have been misconstrued into a suggestion that he just slept around instead.
"I know he's just a friend." He cut in, holding his hands up again, signalling for Reid to calm down. "He's a good friend, who cares about you a lot and I can tell he's extremely worried. Do you not think while you're recovering from... everything, that having a friend around you would be helpful?"
Reid was back to staring at the note. The familiar feeling of heartburn started making its way up his chest and into his throat again. This Laparotomy seemed to have really messed up his stomach. Covering his eyes with one hand, he screwed up the note with the other.
"I'll be fine." He said coolly. "When can I go home?"
"If you were going home with your friend, you could leave tomorrow. If not, you may need to stay a little longer. We can assess it tomorrow morning. I just want to make sure that you can move around safely by yourself." He tried in an effort to tempt him to accept help.
Reid's jaw clenched. He didn't know if he could cope with Morgan at the moment. He was so attentive and caring. That was the last thing he needed or deserved right now. Because of him, Morgan had been traumatised, taunted and injured by a sadistic psychopath. He was having flashbacks and was clearly struggling. What Morgan had seen and heard made Reid want to dig his own grave, crawl into it and cover himself back up with dirt. He knew Morgan would never look at him the same way again. And why should he? He'd seen exactly what he is: A 'fuck toy' for any man who decides they want to have sex with him. Morgan had watched as he was dragged into that bedroom to be put to use and he'd also seen how little he had done to stop it. He'd heard how he moaned in pleasure as the men touched him, how he'd completely surrendered and stopped fighting it.
He closed his eyes. What was wrong with accepting who he is? Morgan wouldn't understand. He'd insist that it was not his fault, that he didn't have a choice, that's not who he is and, like the note stated, he still loves him. He wouldn't understand how little he cared anymore. He would insist that there is something left of the old Reid, but Reid didn't even know who that person was anymore. His body was beyond used. Marked permanently with signatures from most of the men who had been there. They were lifelong reminders of exactly who he was. If he wasn't that person then it wouldn't have happened as many times as it had. All of those men saw something in him that Morgan didn't. Or maybe he did and was just in denial. Either way, Reid didn't have the energy to be lied to right now and made to behave like something he's not. Morgan would expect distress and upset. Reid didn't feel capable of such displays. He'd accepted it and didn't need someone making a big deal out of it all.
Not only that but Maloney was insisting on tormenting Morgan further because of him. And Morgan was going to put himself through it. Reid felt it was just stupid. It was a self-sacrificing move to save... what exactly? His dignity? He had none left to save. Telling a courtroom full of people what he had done with those men seemed almost fitting. He had been exposed in every possible way so far, so what was one more exposure? It barely mattered.
"Can I have an antacid, please?" Reid asked, rubbing his hand against his throat.
Dr. Phillips tightened his lips in slight frustration. He then got up to look at his chart.
"You've already had it today. Has it not helped?"
Reid rested his head back. "No, it's not helping."
"Okay. I will have a look to see what else we can try. It should settle down soon." He said reassuringly. How he could cope on barely any painkillers after major surgery yet heartburn was bothering him so much was beyond him, but it wasn't for him to decide what was more uncomfortable.
Dr. Phillips cleared his throat, knowing that he was now pushing. But he had to try, his mind wouldn't rest. "Dr. Reid, I would like to give you some advice, if you don't mind?" Reid simply looked at him and he perched himself on the edge of the bed again. "I have seen a lot of patients on this ward over my years as a Doctor. Some are incredibly lonely people. The amount of times I have had to send someone home alone because there are no other options for them saddens me. Rarely have I seen a group of friends care about someone the way your friends care about you. Family yes, but friends? That's very rare. Now I'm not going to tell you what to do, but knowing what you have been through I can't sit back without saying this. I really do think it would be good for you if you let your friends in. Let them take care of you for a while, just while you get back on your feet. There is nothing wrong with accepting some support from people, especially if it aids your recovery."
Reid's gaze had dropped some way through his speech. He swallowed hard. Every fibre of his being should have been pushing for him to say 'okay, I will stay with Morgan.' But his head was working desperately on damage limitation and crushing anything that resembled a strong sensation or emotion. He responded numbly, closing his eyes. "I will think about it."
Dr. Phillips smiled. "Okay, well that's all I can ask." This was, in his opinion, progress. "Is there anything else I can get for you, Dr. Reid?" Reid just shook his head, not opening his eyes. "I will come back with something for your heartburn." Reid had shut down once again. His head rested back and he put his earplugs back in. Dr. Phillips stood, sighing slightly. He had a feeling this young man was going to have a long and hard recovery ahead of him.
He returned the chart to the end of his bed and moved towards the door. Taking one final glance back, he left the room.
It was Monday morning and the team were back in the office. Strauss had asked them to come in just to keep things 'normal' but they had all been signed off from cases for a week. It wasn't something she would normally do, but given the circumstances of the last few months, she knew the team was at breaking point.
Hotch was grateful for her rare kindness. He remembered how difficult he had found it to focus last time and the pressure of a case coming in at any time hadn't helped. At least now the team could focus on processing everything together. He would not make the same mistake of shutting himself away. This time round things would be different.
He looked out into the bullpen and saw Emily sat at her desk. Once again Morgan and Reid's desks were empty. It made him sick that they had only just got Reid back. For the first time in months, the team had been complete again. He had gotten into the habit of looking out just to see Reid at his desk. It made him happy. Their little family had been complete again.
Now once again there was a huge hole, that this time he wasn't sure would be refilled. His gaze drifted to Prentiss, who seemed to be sat back in her chair, deep in thought. Most likely having the same thoughts he was. No one would feel the absence more than her. Without her two bullpen companions, she looked completely lost.
As if sensing her loneliness, JJ and Garcia approached and sat down in Morgan and Reid's chairs. He could see the relief in Prentiss' features as she was dragged back from whatever dark thoughts she was having. Her compartmentalisation was first class, but even for her, this seemed to be too much.
Hotch's gaze softened as he watched the three ladies interacting. Garcia had a tin of something that was no doubt sweet and full of chocolate. JJ was messing with the books on Reid's desk, unnecessarily straightening them as if he was going to walk in any minute and she wanted it to be tidy for him.
His team truly was a family unit. As much as he felt he had failed them last time, there was always someone to pick up the slack. As long as they had each other they would never truly be alone. Which brought his thoughts round to Reid. It seemed wrong to have Reid on his own at the hospital, no doubt sinking into some level of depression and Morgan struggling at home, desperate to see the one person who could put his mind at rest and likely stop the flashbacks that were plaguing him. With Reid out of his sights, Morgan had become a nervous wreck, convinced that something bad was going to happen. Hotch knew it wasn't a healthy reaction, but he couldn't say he blamed him either. Had Haley survived Foyet, he knew he would have spent every day of his life worrying and checking in on her. He knew that if Morgan could just see that Reid was safe, it would provide him comfort. But as it was, he couldn't even get an update. He had to give the hospital staff their due, they had certainly protected their patient's rights. As frustrating as it was to be on the receiving end of it.
Hotch saw Rossi entering the bullpen. It was not like him to be last in the office, but the man looked tired. It was easy to forget how deeply Rossi could be affected by things. He hid it well. It was only after Jason he realised how much Rossi saw Reid as a surrogate son. He was often impatient with him and seemed easily irritated by his info dumping and his ability to get lost in his own head sometimes. He was regularly the first to make a snide comment or roll his eyes when Reid went off on a tangent, but behind all of that was a fierce protectiveness that Hotch hadn't fully recognised until recently. Rossi had always been a good judge of character and it was clear that he viewed Reid as one of the best people he knew. He felt deeply for the young man and it was difficult for an older man to watch someone who was comparatively so young go through so much. Rossi was the father of the BAU in more ways than one.
Hotch watched as Rossi approached the group and placed himself on the edge of Morgan's desk near Garcia. They had obviously noticed how tired he was as the next second Garcia had her hand on his forearm and Prentiss was scurrying over to the kitchen, no doubt to make him a coffee. Hotch couldn't help but smile at his family, once again coming together to take care of one of their own.
The next moment there was a knock on his door. He hadn't noticed JJ making her way up to his office.
"Morning, Sir." She gave a small smile. "We are going to take some time in the conference room, if you don't mind? I just feel like we all need some time together right now." Her eyes were sad and grey.
"Not at all." He looked down to the paperwork in front of him and then out to the team. He closed the file. "I'll join you."
JJ's eyes lit up a little at this. She had mentioned it in what she thought was a vain hope that he might want to be part of it. She fully expected him to ignore the indirect offer altogether.
"Okay." She smiled.
Hotch stood and made his way out of the office and onto the mezzanine. He looked over to the team and gestured to the conference room. They all stood and followed his lead. He hung back at the door for a few moments waiting for Rossi who was the last to approach.
"You okay, Dave?" He said quietly. The man really did look tired.
"Not really." He said honestly with a sigh. "Morgan and I went to do 'clean up' at Reid's apartment last night. How he is ever going to sleep in there, I don't know."
"So you decided against squatting then?" He said with a smile trying to lighten the mood a little.
Rossi rolled his eyes and gave a small smile.
"I thought better of it." His face turned serious again. "Honestly, I couldn't wait to get out of the place."
Hotch nodded in understanding then continued into the conference room and sat down with the rest of the team. The mood was heavy.
"I brought cookies." Garcia said gently, pushing the tin into the centre of the table.
"I don't know where you find your energy." JJ said flatly.
"When I'm stressed or upset, I bake. I find it helps. Takes my mind off... well..." She trailed off.
"Has anyone heard from Morgan?" Prentiss asked. "I've been meaning to call him."
"I saw him last night. We sorted Reid's place out." Rossi answered.
"Oh, you should have called, I'd have come over to help."
"I think Morgan wanted to keep it quiet. He found it... difficult."
"Was he okay?" Garcia asked, the worry in her voice was clear. She had been regularly checking in on him over the last couple of days.
"'Okay' probably isn't the word I would use. He had a pretty severe flashback when he saw the radiator. And when he entered the bedroom... well, you can imagine."
"Poor baby. I'll go and see him later." Garcia said lovingly.
"And were you okay?" Prentiss asked gently.
"I was okay." He said unconvincingly. When they all kept looking at him, he reluctantly continued. "It was difficult to get the image of Reid on that bed out of my head. Given the... stuff we were cleaning up, it wasn't pleasant." He grimaced at the memory of the stained sheets and carpet.
"I can't imagine why he would want to go back there." JJ said, shaking her head. "He's obviously not thinking straight."
"I doubt he is." Prentiss answered glumly.
"Well we've done our best to make sure that there are no reminders of what happened. Unfortunately the mattress was not salvageable. We've flipped it for now but he's going to need a new one."
Garcia's face paled.
"Was it really bad in there?" She asked quietly.
Rossi opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He just sighed and nodded with a sad smile.
Her gaze dropped to the table and her eyes welled up. "I can't believe this has happened."
"I think that's where we're all at." Prentiss said coolly. They all sat in contemplative silence for a few moments.
"It's my fault." Rossi said suddenly.
"Dave-" Hotch tried.
"No, Aaron. I convinced you that he would be safe with Nick, that the best place for him to be was at home with that guy. You weren't happy with it. Your instincts were right. He was in danger and I just didn't see it. I may as well have handed him to those guys myself." Rossi's voice was sad and guilt-ridden.
"Don't do that to yourself." Garcia said gently, grabbing his hand.
"Penelope's right. No one ever would have thought that the lead on the investigation would be involved in it." JJ said, reassuringly.
"After Jason, anything was possible." Rossi shook his head. "I should have realised that."
"Dave, it's not your fault. Anymore than it's Morgan's for not being able to help him. We know exactly who is to blame and it's not you." Hotch said firmly.
The words brought him little comfort.
"I never thought I'd see a worse image than him under that bed, but now I keep seeing him lay on his bed, just staring at the ceiling, covered in their... " He shook his head in disgust. "It makes me sick to my stomach. That poor kid. I can't even begin to imagine how he felt going through all of that again. Knowing that Morgan was just outside listening to it all."
Garcia breathed in a shaky breath. "I know it sounds selfish, but I'm so glad I didn't have to see him like that."
"It's not selfish, it's sensible. The second I saw him, I just couldn't be in there. I couldn't see him like that." JJ said, her eyes now welling up. "I don't know how you guys did it."
"There wasn't much of a choice." Hotch said despondently.
"Sorry." JJ said, a look of guilt crossing her features.
"No, don't apologise. We're not as close to him as you are."
"But Morgan is." She said sadly.
"Morgan had to be in there. He couldn't leave his side." Garcia said knowingly.
"And now he can't even see him." Prentiss said forlornly. "God, he must be beside himself."
"He's struggling with it, yeah." Rossi said.
"How did it all come to this?" Prentiss asked rhetorically. They all just exchanged glances. None of them had an answer.
Reid looked towards the door as Dr. Marston entered with another member of staff in tow.
"Morning, Dr. Reid. How are you feeling today?"
Reid gave a small, hopeful smile. "I'm okay. Can I go home today?" He asked like an impatient child.
Dr. Marston smiled in response. "Hold your horses. We have to do an assessment first. This is Stephanie, one of our physiotherapists."
"Hi Dr. Reid." She smiled, moving up to perch herself on the side of the bed. "I just need to do a little assessment with you to check your mobility. I need to be sure that you will be safe at home by yourself. Is that okay?"
Reid just nodded.
"Great." She looked down to the clip board in her hands and started filling in an assessment sheet on her clipboard. "Did you get yourself out of bed this morning?"
"Yes."
"And you got yourself dressed?"
"Yes." He answered simply.
"Okay, that's good. Did you have any discomfort while doing that?"
"It's sore, but nothing I can't handle." As usual, he wasn't giving eye contact.
"Okay. Can I see you stand up please?"
"Um, yeah." Reid put his hands to the arms of the chair and pushed himself up. He winced a little as he did, then a mask of indifference fell over his face. He knew that if she saw too much discomfort she could stop him from going home.
"Perfect. Can I see you walk to and from the bathroom?"
Reid nodded then started shuffling towards the bathroom. He couldn't walk confidently yet, his incision felt tight and restrictive, so he took small steps. It took a little while, but he was able to do it.
"Okay, you can sit down now." She said gently. "What type of building do you live in?"
"I'm in an apartment."
"Okay, and what floor is the apartment on?"
"First floor."
"And are there stairs leading up to it or is there an elevator?"
"There is an elevator." Reid lied. He knew the stairs could possibly be a deal breaker.
"Okay, I recommend that you use the elevator as much as you can and avoid stairs for the next couple of days. Just for your own comfort. I would like to try you on some stairs though, just to make sure you're okay with them." Reid nodded again. "I'll be back in a second."
Reid's gaze dropped as he was left alone with Dr. Marston. For some reason he felt like she could see right through him, sensing his lies and discomfort.
She didn't say anything, merely smiled. Stephanie was soon back in the room with a wheelchair.
"I'm just going to take you to some stairs so you can get some practise in." She smiled. "Hop in."
"I don't think I'll be doing much hopping." He smiled a tight lipped smile. Stephanie laughed. It was a generous laugh. What he said really hadn't been funny. He hated that.
She took him out of the ward and to some stairs leading up to the next floor.
"I want you to take one step at a time and hold onto the handrail at all times. If you feel any discomfort then take a break." She said, demonstrating exactly how she wanted him to ascend the stairs. "And do exactly the same coming back down." She turned and demonstrated again. "Okay, go ahead." She gestured to the stairs.
Reid carefully lifted himself out of the wheelchair and moved towards the stairs, grasping the hand rail. He lifted his right leg first, a sharp pain radiated through his abdomen but it wasn't unbearable, just uncomfortable. His grip tightened on the handrail as he put his weight through his leg. He felt ridiculous at his age with a young woman watching him ascending and descending stairs like some elderly osteopathic patient. He'd done this many times when he was shot in the knee, but for some reason, that didn't feel quite so embarrassing. An inability to walk due to being shot in the line of duty had a better ring to it than being beaten to a pulp so a group of men could have sex with him, somehow. He also tried to ignore the very clear pain from his backside, reminding him of exactly why he was there in the first place and the aching from the bite marks that had almost taken chunks out of his back. The heartburn feeling started creeping up his throat again. Now that was one symptom he was sick of. It felt almost suffocating at times and nothing seemed to be helping it.
"How many steps are there up to your apartment? Approximately?"
"Twelve." Reid said confidently.
"Okay, so if you can do twelve steps for me, that would be great."
Before he knew it, he was up to the twelfth step. He was a little short of breath due to the tension in his body, but Stephanie seemed happy.
"Great! If you can do the same for me, coming back down." She smiled, writing some notes on her clipboard.
Reid nodded then slowly started descending. He didn't have to do it quickly. He just had to do it. He was sure she was going to send him home. He had to be honest, despite his embarrassment, he was a little proud of how well he was hiding his discomfort. He was in a lot of pain. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.
Finally he was down to the bottom of the stairs. His hands were shaking now. When he let go of the handrail he lost his balance slightly and Stephanie quickly grabbed his hand to steady him.
"Woah, careful now." She said gently and then pulled the wheelchair towards him. His cheeks flushed pink as he sat back down with a wince, wiping the sweat away from his forehead. He mentally kicked himself, hoping that wouldn't work against him. "Good work. I expected you to find that difficult, that's why I want you to use the elevator for at least a few days, just to give your body a rest." Reid nodded.
"So, you think I can go home?" He asked hopefully.
"I don't see any reason why you can't. As long as you get plenty of rest and don't move around too much. Assuming Dr. Marston is happy, of course."
For the first time Reid felt some semblance of excitement. He genuinely couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. He smiled. "Thank you."
He was returned to his room where Dr. Marston was waiting. Stephanie confirmed with her that she was happy to release him, passed over the paperwork and left the room.
"Well that's good news." Dr. Marston said with a smile, sitting down on the bed. "From a medical perspective everything is fine. The incision is healing nicely and the wounds on your back aren't showing any signs of infection but due to the nature of the wounds I would like you to keep taking antibiotics for three more days just to be on the safe side. The dressings can be removed now and you can shower normally. Just try not to soak your stitches. Just luke warm water around the operation site for now." Reid just nodded. "Do you have Tylenol and Advil at home?"
"Yeah." Reid said simply.
"Okay, good. Keep taking those as and when you feel any discomfort. I expect the pain will start subsiding in a couple of days. How is your heartburn?"
"Uncomfortable." Reid said, his brows furrowing.
"I will send you home with some Lansoprazole. Keep taking it for a week and by then the symptoms should start to calm down."
"So I'm okay to go home?" Reid asked, his face hopeful.
Dr. Marston smiled. "Yes, you're free to go." She said with a small laugh. "Would you like me to call someone?" She asked gingerly.
Reid broke eye contact and looked to the floor.
"No. I'm okay." He shook his head.
Dr. Marston looked disappointed. "Are you sure? I'm sure Agent Morgan would be more than happy to drive you home."
"I said no." He snapped.
"Okay." She placated. "I'll get someone to take you to the hospital entrance, but I want to make sure you get a cab home. No public transport. You're not ready for that yet... deal?"
Reid closed his eyes. He hated all this fussing. He felt like a child. "Deal."
"Good. I'll get your meds and we'll get you out of here."
Reid stood outside the door to his apartment. It had taken longer than expected for Dr. Marston to return with his meds, then there was another long wait for someone to wheel him to the front door and into an awaiting cab. He was positively fed up by the time he reached home and he still had to face the stairs. They had been hard work, especially after having already climbed twelve stairs at the hospital. His stomach was throbbing painfully. It didn't help that each step brought him closer to a place that he was no longer sure he wanted to enter. It had seemed such a good idea to be able to lock himself away in his apartment and get away from the world. But as he drew closer, the anxiety and nausea was building in him. So here he was, stood with his key in his hand but unable to do anything with it. He felt paralysed.
This is your home. This is where you live. Stop being ridiculous. It's just an apartment.
Those words kept swimming round in his head, over and over. But they weren't helping. He must have been stood there for at least half an hour now and his legs were shaking from the pain in his midsection. The doctor would not have been happy if she knew. He wasn't supposed to be on his feet for longer than five minutes at a time right now. Reid rested his head against the door, banging it multiple times in frustration. No matter how many times he told himself that it was just an apartment, just a room, it didn't matter. His body was having a visceral reaction to it and no amount of trying to counter that would work. Giving up he turned around and leaned up against the door, tipping his head back in exasperation. He slid down the door to the floor like a rag doll, the pain in his stomach finally winning. The heartburn in his throat was gnawing at him and he breathed back what would have been an escaped sob. Shaking his head, he would not cry. He was sick of crying. What was there to cry about? This was just pathetic.
He sat collapsed on the floor, his legs outstretched and his arms flopped down in his lap. He took some deep breaths as he tried to figure out what he was going to do. There wasn't much he could do right now. He figured if he stayed there long enough then eventually the anxiety would subside and he'd be able to open the door. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.
"Are you okay?" A hand prodding his shoulder brought him round with a start. "Sorry! I wasn't sure if you were conscious!" An older female voice spoke. He opened his eyes to find a grey haired lady he recognised from an apartment down the hall. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"
Reid moaned a little as he shifted to wake himself up. "Sorry." He said sloppily. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for. His cheeks flushed. This must have looked very weird.
"Do you need help?" She smiled, brushing a gentle hand over his hair and putting a hand out to help him up.
"Um, I just couldn't get into my apartment." He lied.
Taking in his battered appearance, the hospital band around his wrist and remembering the crime scene tape that had been there for the last few days, she already had a pretty good idea that he may have been struggling.
"Here, let me help you." She said, shaking her hand at him to coax him to take it. He reluctantly reached out and let her assist him to his feet. He was clearly in pain as his features scrunched up as he put his weight through his legs. She took the key from him and pushed it into the lock before he could even register the movement. The door opened easily and she looked at him curiously. "There you go."
His breath caught as the door swung open. He felt like his heart had stopped for a moment. He hadn't been ready for this. She picked up his bag and moved into his apartment, placing it on the couch. She turned and saw he wasn't following. She returned to him and grabbed his hand. "Come on, sweetheart." She said softly, pulling him gently into the apartment. His body had frozen up again. His feet followed the woman's lead and before he knew it he was sat on the couch next to his bag. "That's better." She smiled, pushing a cushion behind his head. He wasn't responsive. He had gone into shutdown again. She stood in front of him, a worried look on her face. "Would you like me to call someone for you? I don't think you should be on your own." The concern in her voice was obvious.
She looked around the room, curious about what had happened to him. Reid's brows furrowed and he nodded silently, his gaze distant. "Okay, is your phone in your bag?" He didn't answer, so she took it upon herself to retrieve it. If she didn't call someone then she would have been calling an ambulance. She was old enough and experienced enough to recognise when someone was not safe to be alone. The fact that the young man had fallen asleep on his doorstep without a drop of alcohol in his system was indication of that enough.
"Who do you want me to call?" She asked, holding up the phone. Reid had closed his eyes now and covered his ears with his hands. She breathed out a sigh and gently reached out to move one of his hands but he just slumped away from her curling up on his side on the couch. "Sweetie?" She touched him on the shoulder but he didn't respond. Looking at the phone, she saw there were some unread text messages. "You have some messages here." She put the phone in front of his face in case he decided to open his eyes. He didn't. "I'm going to open them, okay?"
Derek Morgan
Today
08:43:
Morning. I hope u r ok. Msg me back kid.
10:32:
R u going home today? Please let me know. I will come and get u. U don't have to come home with me but at least let me pick u up. Please Reid.
12:40:
Reid. Please please msg me. I miss u kid. I'm so worried.
"Derek Morgan has sent you a lot of messages. Do you not want to talk to him?" Again, she received no response. She bit her lip, unsure what to do. He might have a good reason for not wanting contact with that man. Perhaps he was involved in whatever had happened to him. She scrolled down to the next message.
David Rossi
Sunday
20:40:
Hey Reid. Just letting you know that we've sorted your apartment. It's clean and tidy now. I'd rather you didn't go home alone, but at least it's ready for you. Take care of yourself and remember, I'm always here if you need me. Love you, kiddo.
This sounded like a safer message to respond to. "David Rossi? Is it okay if I call him?" No response.
Biting her lip again, she made the decision to press 'call'. Someone needed to be with this young man and this David Rossi was obviously close enough to come around and sort out his apartment, so he seemed a safe bet. The call barely rang before a voice was on the other end.
"Reid?" The voice sounded both surprised and relieved.
"Um, hello! Is this David Rossi?"
"Oh god, what's happened? Is he okay? Where is he?"
She could hear worried voices in the background asking what was going on.
"Sorry, I don't mean to panic you. I'm his neighbour and I just found him sat outside his door asleep. I've got him into his apartment, but I don't think he should be alone. He doesn't seem right."
"What do you mean? Hotch, call Morgan. Get him over to Reid's." He said to someone else in the room with him.
"He's just not talking, he's curled up on the couch with his hands over his ears and his eyes closed. He won't respond to me at all. I just really think he needs someone with him."
"Okay, okay, thank you so much, you did the right thing. Hotch, he's shutdown. Do you mind sitting with him until his friend arrives? He won't be long."
"No, of course not."
"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until he does?"
She stared at the young man on the couch. She didn't really know what to do.
"Um, it might be for the best."
"No problem. I have you on speaker."
Suddenly Reid moaned and started shaking.
"Oh, oh!" She knelt down next to him. "He's shaking, he's shaking!" She said in a panic.
"Okay, stay calm. Just talk to him and tell him that he's safe. Don't touch him."
"Okay... uhhhh... What's his name?" Her heart was fluttering in her chest. She had no idea how to deal with this or what this even was. A part of her wished she hadn't come home when she did.
"Spencer Reid. His friend is on his way. He'll be no more than ten minutes."
"Okay. Tell him to hurry!"
Reid moaned out again. "Nooo." He cried quietly.
"Spencer?" She called out softly. "You are safe. You are safe."
"Tell him what he's seeing is not real, he's safe and Morgan is on the way."
"Okay, okay. Sweetheart, what you're seeing is not real. You're safe and your friend Morgan is on his way. He will be here really soon. You're safe, sweetie. No one is going to hurt you."
"Good." Rossi said kindly. "Just keep telling him that."
"Please stop it. Please." He whispered.
"You're safe." She kept repeating it like a mantra. She was absolutely clueless. She'd never seen anything like this before. Her eyes watered upon hearing the young man's desperate and pleading voice. He sounded so small and scared. She didn't know what had happened to him, but she could tell it wasn't good. It was scary that something so obviously bad had happened in the very apartment building she lived in.
She kept trying to soothe him with her voice but was having little success. He just kept shaking and shivering. It was clear that wherever his head was, it was not in a good place.
The man on the phone kept talking to her and keeping her calm, which she was eternally grateful for. Whoever he was, it was apparent that he understood exactly what this was and it wasn't the first time it had happened.
Before she knew it, there was a knock at the door. Spencer started shaking his head from side to side.
"No no no no, don't answer it, don't answer it."
"Answer it." The man on the phone said. "It's Morgan."
She stood, moving towards the door but before she could reach it, it flung open.
A well built black man entered the room and swung straight past her towards the young man. He was straight away at his side, pulling a hand away from his ear and holding onto it tightly.
"Reid, it's Morgan. I'm here, kid. You're safe. This is my hand, focus on my hand and come back to me."
She watched in fascination as the man so confidently knew what to do. Spencer already appeared to be calming and wasn't shaking anywhere near as violently as he had been. He was now whimpering. Morgan stroked a hand through his hair. "Reid. I'm here, I'm here. You are not there, what you are seeing is not real. You are safe and I am here with you. Feel my hand. Can you feel that?" He squeezed gently. "That's me. Come on, squeeze back, kid." Morgan smiled and laughed a little as Reid squeezed back.
"That's it, Reid. That's it. Keep coming back to me." He took a brief glance at the woman, who smiled sadly at him.
"All okay, Morgan?" Rossi's voice came through the phone.
"Yeah, man. I'll call you later. I'm gonna take him back to mine. I've gotta get him out of here." He said, still stroking Reid's head and squeezing his hand.
"Okay kid. You do what you need to. Speak later." Morgan felt Reid shift and his hand squeezed twice.
"Reid? Are you back?" He pushed his hair behind his ear. Reid nodded. "I need words, kid."
"Yeah, I'm here." Reid said quietly. Not opening his eyes.
"Can you open your eyes for me?" Reid shook his head, pulling his hand away from Morgan's and covering his ear again.
"That's what he was doing before." The woman cut in.
Morgan looked at her and stood up, shaking her hand.
"Thanks so much for taking care of him. That was really kind of you."
"It's not a problem. When I found him outside his apartment I couldn't just leave him there."
"Well thanks for calling. I'm going to take him back to my house. He shouldn't really be here."
She looked around. "What happened here?" Morgan could see the fear in her face.
"It's nothing to worry about. You're perfectly safe." He reassured.
She nodded unsurely. "Okay. Well do you need me to do anything?"
"No, that's okay. Thank you so much." He touched her shoulder and led her to the door.
"I hope he's going to be okay. Take good care of him." She smiled, taking one last look at Reid on the couch before she turned and left the apartment, her hands slightly shaking.
Morgan closed the door behind her then turned his attention back to Reid. He was clearly in shutdown. He had read about this back in the days when Gideon had instructed him to research autism and its characteristics. He had never really seen Reid fully shutdown before but he had on very rare occasions spotted him wearing noise cancelling headphones on the jet after a tough case or when he appeared to be particularly strung out. He rarely went non verbal but he had seen times where it appeared physically difficult for Reid to put his words together. During any of those times, Morgan would just leave him be.
The stress of everything that had happened recently had finally overwhelmed him. For someone who felt overwhelmed at the prospect of a handshake it didn't surprise Morgan that Reid had finally shutdown. The things that had been done to him were bad enough for a 'normal' person, but for someone like Reid, each of those touches must have been hell.
Normally, he would just leave him alone and give him the space he so clearly needed. But right now that wasn't an option. Judging by what the woman had said, he really hadn't wanted to enter his apartment in the first place. The longer he spent in this place, the more unlikely he was to come out of it.
"Reid? Can you hear me?" He asked gently. Reid nodded. "Shall we get you out of here?" Reid nodded again urgently. "Okay, I need you to open your eyes and come with me, kid. Do you think you can do that?" Reid nodded again but didn't open them yet.
Morgan went to the bookshelf finding the noise cancelling headphones and brought them to Reid. He put them over his head and on top of the hands covering his ears. Reid quickly moved his hands and straightened them onto his ears, his skin flushed with embarrassment. He hated this part of himself and did not like people knowing that this was something he had to do from time to time. It made him feel incredibly childish.
Morgan knelt down next to him. "Reid? Open your eyes please." They gently fluttered open, looking gingerly at his friend. "There you are." Morgan smiled kindly. It felt like forever since he had seen those eyes. He could have cried with relief. "Let's get you out of here." He put his hand under Reid's shoulder and pushed him up to sitting. Reid's eyes slid closed again. He didn't want to look around the apartment or see anything that would remind him of what had happened. It had been such a bad idea to come back here. He would be happy if he never saw this place again.
Accepting the fact that Reid seemed to be more comfortable without his vision, Morgan put a hand to his back. "Okay kid, I'll guide you." He helped him to his feet, Reid winced as he stood. "Give me your hand." Reid put his hand into Morgan's and allowed him to guide him towards the door and out of the apartment.
It took around fifteen minutes for Morgan to finally get Reid into his truck, but he had finally managed it. He clipped in the seat belt and stroked his head.
"Okay, let's get you home." He grabbed his bag and threw it in the back of the vehicle. Climbing into the truck, he fastened his own seat belt. When he looked up, Reid was staring at him, eyes wide and slightly misty.
"Thank you." He whispered. Morgan broke into an emotional smile.
"Anytime, kid. Anytime."