Chapter Nineteen
08/07/2019. 01:48 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.
The white outer walls of David's house were aglow in shades of red and blue from the lights on the ambulance and the crime scene unit parked outside. David glanced up from where he had been staring at his feet to see an SUV racing towards the house with the red and blue lights flashing on the grill. David furrowed his graying brow. The SUV parked up at the side of the road and Tara, JJ, Luke, and Penelope clambered out.
"I thought you were going to meet us at the hospital," stated David with a quirked eyebrow.
"Garcia needed to be sure her baby genius was alright," responded Luke with a chuckle. Penelope gave his arm a firm shove and pouted at him. Their attention was diverted to the sound of rumbling wheels on the asphalt. A gurney was being wheeled towards them. As it drew near, they noticed that Spencer was laid on it. A plastic cervical collar had been strapped around his neck and his head held perfectly still by red foam blocks that had been taped to either side of his head, the tape resting over his forehead and chin. The skin around his mouth and across his face was red and inflamed from the duct tape. Straps had been buckled across his chest, upper arms, and his legs to keep him in place on the spinal board.
Penelope stared down in horror at her friend as the gurney came to a stop. An oxygen cannula was nestled under Spencer's nose and an IV had been inserted into the back of his left hand and secured with a clear dressing. A tube led to a bag of clear fluids hung on a hook attached to the gurney.
"Oh, my sweet, baby boy! You're so hurt!" cried Penelope, tears streaking her cheeks.
"It's okay, Garcia. It looks worse than it is. It's a precaution in case I have any spinal injuries. Given that I have some mild numbness and tingling in my left arm and leg, it is entirely plausible," rasped Spencer, his voice painfully strained.
"What the hell happened in there?" asked Tara.
"Director Michaels made Simmons restrain Reid in a straitjacket, tie him to a chair and gag him. He gave Simmons a sedative and cuffed him. When we got there, we freed Simmons and went out back where Michaels had Reid on a chair in the garden, ankles bound, blindfolded, and a noose around his neck. Michaels was about to fire on us so I shot him. Unfortunately he landed against the chair, knocking it from under Reid's feet. Luckily, Simmons got to him in time and managed to ease the pressure until Prentiss cut him down."
"Yeah, and the kid needs to gain a few pounds. He's way too light," came Matt's voice as he approached the group with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his dark eyes.
"Do not," retorted Spencer indignantly. Penelope's face lit up.
"Oh, I am so fattening you up!" Spencer raised an eyebrow at her.
"Why? Are you planning to cook me in a pot?"
"Oh, ho! Don't tempt me, Dr Reid!" A mischievous smile danced on Spencer's chapped lips.
"Sorry to break up the reunion, but we need to get Dr Reid to the hospital. Who's riding in? Control said someone has to come with him to Bethesda," said one of the paramedics.
"I am," responded Matt. The paramedic nodded and slid the gurney into the back of the ambulance, the wheels folding up underneath. Matt grabbed the handrail and hauled himself up into the ambulance and took a seat on the bench next to the gurney.
"We'll meet you at the hospital, kiddo," shouted David. A hand lifted from the gurney and gave a thumbs up in response.
The doors slammed shut in the agent's faces and the ambulance peeled away from the house. David shook his head in disbelief, his hands on his hips.
"I can't believe this happened again here. We should have profiled that Michaels would come after the kid again."
"Dave, you can't blame this on yourself." David turned on his heel at the sound of Emily's voice. "CSU is finished back there. Once the coroner has collected Michaels' body, your house is cleared. Come on, let's get to the hospital."
"These hospital visits sure are getting old," grumbled Tara as they made their way back to the SUV. Emily and David climbed into the SUV parked on the driveway.
08/07/2019. 02:03 hours. Ambulance on route to Bethesda General Hospital, Virginia.
Spencer hated lying flat with his head secured in a single position. It forced him to stare up at the roof of the ambulance. The circular light was blinding. He rolled his eyes to the right and reached out his hand as far as he could, resting it on the cold metal rail.
"Matt?" Matt leaned over so that he appeared in Spencer's field of vision and grasped his hand firmly. Spencer curled his lithe fingers around Matt's.
"I know you're blaming yourself for this. It's not your fault. I told you to restrain me."
"But, you were terrified when he made me tape your mouth."
"He was going to kill Kristy and the kids. It was a no-brainer. Yes, I was terrified. But you did what you had to do. As for the hanging, you were unconscious when he took me outside. You got to me in time. A minute longer and my second cervical vertebra would have snapped, severing my spinal cord from my brain. Did you know that a nineteen year old woman survived a suicide attempt by hanging back in 1987? She had fallen into a coma, had severe neurological damage, only to completely recover after forty-five days." Matt laughed and shook his head.
"Don't make me tape your mouth again, Reid."
"Pff. You love it."
"Okay, you got me there. Are you going to be okay going into Bethesda after everything that happened?"
"Yeah, I'm good. At this point, death can fuck right off. I've got a coffee date in two days."
"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky lady?"
"Dunno about 'lucky'. I don't exactly have a sparkling track record when it comes to women."
"Yeah, being an FBI agent will do that." Spencer chuckled, followed by a bout of harsh coughs.
08/07/2019. 02:33 hours. Bethesda General Hospital, Virginia.
Spencer's admission into the emergency department had passed in a blur. No sooner was he handed over to the medical staff, he was whisked off through a set of double doors to the MRI scanner. His back ached from lying flat against the plastic board. Hands grabbed the handles on the sides of the spinal board and slid it across onto a motorised bed. A pain shot down Spencer's spine at the jarring movement, forcing him to close his eyes and breathe steadily through the pain.
"Sorry, Dr Reid. You're on the MRI bed now. I'm going to give you a button so you can buzz if you need help. We'll be able to communicate with you through an intercom. Have you had an MRI before?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. We're going to give you some headphones whilst we do the scan as the machine can be quite noisy, and we'll replace the head blocks with a frame." Spencer flicked up his thumb in response. The tape was gently peeled away from his face, releasing the blocks from either side of his head. A pair of headphones were pushed into his ears. The respite from the head restraint was brief as a plastic frame was clicked into place over his head and face. Spencer felt himself slide backwards into the scanner. He had almost forgotten how claustrophobic the scanners were. The walls of the cylinder felt like they were closing in around him. Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, the classical music playing through the headphones unable to hide the thudding sound that came from the machine around him.
08/07/2019. 03:00 hours. Bethesda General Hospital, Virginia.
The wait for the team had passed by just like every other time. This time, they weren't praying for the wayward genius to be alive. They were praying that he did not have a life changing injury to his spine. Matt had reported that Spencer was in good spirits in the ambulance. A young man with light brown hair wearing dark green scrubs and a white coat approached the group with a clipboard in his hands. He barely looked old enough to attend medical school, much less likely to be an ER physician. He smiled softly as his deep brown eyes scanned the group of agents sitting close together.
"Family of Dr Reid?" Emily nodded at him.
"Yeah, that's us."
"I'm Dr Branson. If you guys follow me to Dr Reid's room, I'll give you a run down. He's awake so it's best if he hears this too." With a tilt of his head, Dr Branson led the group a short distance away to a high-level observation room off to the side of the observation bays.
As they entered the room, they noticed that Spencer still lay flat on his back with the collar around his neck and two rolled up towels taped either side of his head to keep it still. He had been stripped of his clothing and a gown was draped over him to cover his modesty. Dr Branson placed two black and white films on the light box fixed to the wall and turned it on.
"Okay, are you ready for the verdict?" asked Dr Branson.
"Yep. Just please tell me I still have a brain in there," responded Spencer, frustrated at being unable to see what was happening. Penelope grasped his right hand, her warmth radiating through his arm.
"Okay. The good news is that there's no lasting damage to the spinal cord. The MRI detected a small, stable fracture to the C2 and some inflammation to the disc between C2 and C3. This will heal with rest. The numbness and tingling you've been experiencing in your arm and leg will subside when the inflammation settles. The brain bleed from last year also remains stable. There's some tracheal bruising, but all in all, you've been very lucky. You'll need to wear a cervical collar for six weeks. We'll get you fitted with something a little more comfortable. It may benefit you to use a cane whilst you have some numbness in your leg to keep you steady. Any questions?"
"When can I get out of here?" asked Spencer.
"I'm just going to change your collar and then we can get your discharge papers ready. Some Tylenol and ibuprofen should be sufficient for pain relief. If you do need something for nerve pain, we can consider something like Elavil, but we'll cross that bridge if we need to. I just need someone to hold Dr Reid's head still while I change the collar." David nodded and moved to the end of the gurney at Spencer's head. Spencer rolled his eyes up to look at him.
"It's okay, caro. I've got you. Don't move."
Dr Branson peeled off the tape holding the towels in place and moved them away. David pressed his palms to the sides of Spencer's face, holding his head firmly in place. The doctor tore apart the velcro straps securing the collar and slid it out from under Spencer's neck. Spencer swallowed hard and focussed on David's face.
"I'm sorry for everything, Rossi," whispered Spencer. David raised an eyebrow at him.
"You've nothing to be sorry for, kiddo."
"He came after me at your home and turned it into a crime scene." David sighed.
"That's not on you, Reid. I understand if you never want to stay with me again."
"I want to… Please…" David was startled by Spencer's response.
"What?"
"Dave, you're the closest I have to a father. Hotch, Gideon, my biological father… They all abandoned me. But you stayed. Even with everything that has happened."
"Reid, I'll always think of you as a son. You're welcome at La villa di Rossi any time. Hell, you could live there if you wanted to." A collective gasp sounded as Dr Branson returned to the room. No one had even noticed that he had left. He ripped open the plastic packaging on a gray cervical collar and tucked the trash into his pocket. He slid the collar under Spencer's neck and pulled it across the front. There was padding under Spencer's chin and where the bottom of the collar sat flush against his collar bones. The straps were secured firmly in place.
"There we go. You can let go now." David released his hold on Spencer's head and moved around so that he was standing behind Penelope. He rested his hands on Penelope's shoulders. Penelope used her free hand to push a button on the remote to bring Spencer into a more upright position. Spencer winced with the pain that radiated from his neck to his fingers and toes. He breathed heavily a few times for the pain to subside.
"I'm okay. I'm okay," gasped Spencer.
"Is that better?" asked Penelope. Spencer dared to open his eyes. Without his glasses, he was nearly blind, a thankless trait courtesy of his Aunt Ethel. Spencer's cheeks flushed pink.
"I can't tell. That bastard broke my glasses."
"Oh! Oh!" The team collectively watched Penelope rummage through the depths of her oversized, floral purse in an amalgamation of amusement and confusion. Miscellaneous items dropped onto the bed as she continued her search, mumbling to herself that "it is in here somewhere".
"Garcia? What exactly do you have in there?" asked Luke, desperately trying to hold back a laugh. Penelope fired a glare at him.
"None of your beeswax, Nooby McNooberson. Ah, ha!" Penelope gleefully retrieved a brown leather case from some hidden recess of her purse and popped it open to reveal a pair of black, rectangular shaped spectacles. "I found your spare pair." Penelope gently slid the arms over the top of Spencer's ears, the bridge coming to rest on his nose. Spencer blinked, the world coming into focus.
"Thank you, Garcia." Spencer smiled softly and averted his gaze to Dr Branson. "Dr Branson? What happens if I have a seizure whilst I'm in this?" Spencer jabbed the tip of a finger at the obtrusive collar.
"I strongly recommend that you stay with someone, or someone stay with you. You're going to need help with bathing for a few weeks, especially with hair washing. Movement of your neck needs to be kept to a minimum. As for seizures, it would probably benefit you from having a pendant alarm, one that would send a mass text out to your team, and to ambulance control. At the sign of an aura, one would simply push the button, and voila. It means that someone could be with you in a matter of minutes, if not your team, EMTs or first responders. They would be able to stabilise your head and neck until the seizure has passed. On that note, we have a spare pendant alarm behind the reception desk. I'll get it whilst I get your discharge papers ready. I'll send a set of scrubs in so you can get dressed." Dr Branson gave the group a nod and swiftly exited the room. JJ noted the dejected expression on Spencer's face, his brows knitted together.
"Are you okay, Spence?" asked JJ. Spencer's eyes lifted from his hands folded on his lap up to the blonde agent. He looked close to tears which sent a shudder through JJ's heart. Spencer almost audibly rolled his eyes and sighed like a moody teenager.
"This is gonna suck!"
08/07/2019. 04:38 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.
Spencer was more than grateful to see the familiar white walls of David's house after the humiliating debacle that was Matt and Luke trying to dress him. He had expected that Matt would have been an expert at dressing another human being, given that he had five children, but it appeared that he was far more adept at dressing an infant than a squirming adult. The bottom edges of the pale blue scrubs legs dragged against the wooden floor as Matt and Luke guided him into the spare ground floor bedroom and set him down on the double bed. Matt rearranged the pillows behind him so that he was sat up more comfortably. He had expected to feel an overwhelming wave of emotions on returning to David's house, yet the familiarity felt safe, which was completely ironic given that he had been tied up and almost killed twice in the very same home. He suspected it wasn't the house that made him feel safe. Famous crime author and SSA David Rossi was what made him feel safe. In the minutes that he stood on that chair waiting for the final drop, Spencer had accepted his death. The sound of Emily's voice secured the thought process that in fact he did not want to die. He just wanted his pain to stop. The determination to live flowed through his veins and rose up like a phoenix being reborn.
Spencer drew the heavy, navy blue comforter over his legs and up to his chest and gave a content sigh. He had not even noticed Luke re-entering the room with a glass tumbler of water. Luke set the glass down on the bedside table.
"Do you want the TV on or anything?" asked Luke, ensuring that Spencer was as comfortable as possible.
"No, thank you. I'm really tired so I'm just gonna sleep."
"Sure. One of us will wake you in a few hours for your medication." Spencer settled back into the mountain of pillows behind him and shooed Luke away with a playful wave of his hand.
He had hoped that he would have just one night without a nightmare….
Spencer was dressed in uncomfortable prison denims. He awoke with a throbbing head to find himself sitting in a chair in the centre of a prison cell, his hands cuffed behind him. Duct tape silenced his pleas and cries for help. He was surrounded, each person leering at him, long, shadowy tendrils for fingers reaching out to him- Director John Michaels, Warden Lee Michaels, Matthew Morton, Oliver Boone, Anthony Oxtree, Cat Adams, Billy Adams, Casey Pinkner, Lindsey Vaughn, Tobias Hankel…. His screams were muffled as they each tore the flesh from his bones…
A piercing scream startled David as he nursed a steaming mug of coffee in front of an old war movie. The hot liquid splashed over the side of the mug and onto David's trousers. He barely acknowledged the sting as he set the cup down and raced into the bedroom. Spencer was sat up on the bed, his knees curled painfully into his chest and his fingers tightly gripping his hair. David perched carefully on the edge of the bed so as not to scare the terrified young man any further.
"Reid? Spencer? It's David. You're okay, kiddo. You're safe." He reached out for Spencer's arm, but the genius flapped his hands hysterically. "Spencer. Please listen to my voice. I promise, you're safe." Spencer let out an ear-piercing shriek, tears leaking out of his tightly closed eyes. His hands returned to his hair, yanking harshly at the roots. David the only other thing he could think of; he wrapped his arms around Spencer and pulled him into a firm hug, trapping Spencer's hand between their chests. He could feel the doctor trembling beneath his touch. He adjusted his position slightly so as not to aggravate Spencer's neck injury further, and carded his fingers through his curls.
"You're okay, bambino. You're safe. It was just a nightmare." Spencer drew back slightly and gazed into David's eyes, his own hazel pools glistening with unshed tears.
"Dave?" came Spencer's weak, shaking voice.
"Yeah, it's me. You're okay." A jolt of pain shot through his spine and left side like shorting electric. Spencer gritted his teeth and gripped David's shoulders intensely, his left hand noticeably weaker than normal. David grasped Spencer's upper arms and eased him carefully back down into the pillows.
"Easy does it. Lie back down and rest. I'll bring you some coffee. Just like we did after the train crash, you're going to talk me through everything…"