Chapter Twenty-One

10/07/2019. 15:24 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.

David watched anxiously from the front door as the SUV approached. He had paced the hallway several times in trepidation after the message pinged on his cell phone to alert him of Spencer's seizure. Luke was the closest and did not hesitate in driving straight over to him. The SUV ambled up the driveway and came to a halt directly in front of David. Spencer's head rested back against the headrest of the passenger seat. His eyes were heavy and a track of blood had dried over his lips from his nose. The driver's side door clicked open and Luke climbed out. He gently closed the door behind him and moved around the hood of the car to the passenger side.

"He's okay. He had stopped fitting when I arrived." As Luke began to unbuckle Spencer's seat belt, both he and David were startled by the roar of the approaching motorcycle. The rider's leg dropped down to steady the bike as it came to a stop. David watched curiously as the rider kicked down the stand and clambered over the bike. Gloved hands came up and unfastened the chin strap of the helmet. Pink locks tumbled down over the leather clad shoulder. David's eyebrows shot up into his greying hair.

"Uh, hello?" said David with a confused expression.

"Hi. I'm Mel." David could have palmed his face. He should have realised there and then that it was Mel from the prison. Mel peeled off her gloves and shoved them inside her helmet. She extended a hand to David. David accepted it and shook it firmly. "I can't believe I'm meeting the David Rossi. I didn't put two and two together when Spencer said he was staying with Rossi."

"You've read my books?" Mel scoffed.

"Damn right! They're awesome!"

"Thanks." Luke shuffled towards the pair with a very lethargic Spencer by his side. Spencer's right arm was draped around his shoulders and Luke's left arm held him firmly around the waist. Spencer's eyes were open but glazed, his steps clumsy. His hair hung loosely over his face.

Luke assisted Spencer to the lounge and set him down on the sofa with his head resting back against the cushions. Spencer's eyes stared up at the ceiling. Luke quickly gathered Spencer's medication and a glass of water from the kitchen and returned to the lounge. He set the glass down on the coffee table and knelt down in front of the genius. He patted him softly on the knee.

"Reid?" Spencer blinked and turned his attention to Luke. "Here's your medication." Spencer sat forwards and weakly reached for the tablets before throwing them into his mouth. Luke supported the glass with one hand, Spencer's trembling grip beneath his, and helped him to drink. Luke's other hand rested between the doctor's shoulder blades.

"Mel?" came Spencer's tired voice.

"She's talking to Rossi whilst he makes some coffee. You've picked a good one in her mind." Spencer frowned in confusion.

"How so?"

"She's first aid trained. She managed to keep you safe during your seizure and didn't freak out once. And she has one sweet ride."

"What?"

"Mel. She rides a purple Yamaha." Spencer's face tightened as though he was trying to piece together a single thought. "It's a motorbike, Reid." Luke considered the young man for a moment. "Are you okay?" Spencer let out a deflated sigh.

"I'm tired. I think I'm going to lie down for a while." Luke came to his feet and offered Spencer his hand to help him up from the sofa. Spencer brushed it off and pressed against the cushions to stand up. With his left hand pressed to his forehead, fingers in his hair, Spencer grasped his cane firmly in his right hand, and stumbled along the hallway to the bedroom, the cane tapping against the floor. Luke watched Spencer's slumped form disappear into the room before the door clicked shut behind him.

David and Mel returned from the kitchen with two mugs each. Mel glanced around and noted the dimple in the cushion where Spencer had been seated. She glanced around.

"Where did Spencer go?" asked Mel, her lips pursed in concern.

"He went to lie down for a while," responded Luke with a sigh.

"I'll take him his coffee. Let me talk to the kid," said David. Mel slumped into the sofa where Spencer had been sitting, and handed a mug to Luke. David sidled away to the spare room.

"Does Spence get low like this often?" asked Mel. She grasped her mug between her hands, staring into the sweet, milky concoction.

"Yeah. Mostly when he's had a seizure. Reid has an eidetic memory, so when he has a seizure, he gets very confused and he struggles with it."

"What happened to him?"

"He was the sole survivor of the train crash last year. He hit his head when the train went on its side and suffered a haematoma. His shoulder was dislocated, ribs were broken, punctured lung and some metal tore through the muscle in his leg and chipped the bone. While he was recovering, he discovered that an UnSub we had taken down had orchestrated for the train to be sabotaged. He was staying here when the guy came after him. Our friend, Derek, found him tied up and lashed to the stairs with a belt. Reid had been hit over the head with the coal stoking tool, causing more bleeding. It gave him further brain damage and caused post-traumatic epilepsy. He struggled with aphasia and a stutter for a while." Luke gave a sigh and sipped his coffee before continuing.

"When he had returned to work, we were called to a hostage situation in DC. Reid being the stubborn pain in the ass that he is, refused to stay behind and got on that train alone with the UnSub. It was the same one that sabotaged his train. Reid offered himself up in exchange for the hostages. He was tied up as the hostages were released. As we got on the train, Reid managed to throw himself at the UnSub before being shot in the shoulder. It tore his artery and pierced his lung. He spent a week on a ventilator because the damage was so extensive." Luke met Mel's gaze.

"He's been through a lot these past few years. He was framed for murder by the same woman who orchestrated the train accident and ended up in prison for three months awaiting trial."

"That's why he was so tense when he arrived at San Quentin."

"You noticed that?"

"Yeah. He was trying hard to mask it but I could see right through it." Luke let out a laugh.

"Yeah, that sounds like Reid."

"So, this woman… Why does she have it out so much for him?"

"Did. She's dead. Reid watched her execution. He was very angry then. He couldn't talk properly, couldn't take care of himself. He was angry at everything. He lost it when they pronounced her dead and JJ had to cuff him. In hindsight, we should have known that was actually part of his brain injury. He flipped when me and Matt found him cutting himself and tried to punch me. I had to detain him to take him to the hospital. That's when he tried to end his life. You know the rest from there." Mel's eyes stung with tears but she squared her shoulders and swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"I will support him through everything." Luke's dark eyes softened.

"You really like him, don't you?"

"I do. He's very much like me, but also the polar opposite. He's sweet and attentive." Luke smiled at her.

"I'm sure when he's a bit more 'with it', you guys will have a lot to talk about." Luke accentuated the words 'with it' using air quotes. Mel giggled. "I'm sure Rossi won't mind you hanging around for a while. Reid will be fine in a couple of hours."

…

Spencer lay in silence on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. A tear strayed out of the corner of his eye and into his hair. He could hear the muffled sounds of the others talking. His chest and face flushed with embarrassment. His first date in years was ruined by a seizure. His head still felt fuzzy. Hatred bubbled in his stomach for Cat Adams. She started this last year with the train crash. Since then, his emotions were as unpredictable as an active volcano. He could flit between anger, sadness and happiness in the blink of an eye. He had made huge progress in the past year to overcome the injuries he sustained, and the additional PTSD that followed. The Director and his son shattered the walls he had rebuilt around himself. He knew fully that he had complex PTSD as a result of the accumulation of trauma. Spencer's breath hitched slightly when there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Spence. It's Dave." Spencer pushed himself up into a seated position and folded his legs underneath him. He quickly brushed the tears away from his eyes.

"Come in." Dave stepped into the room with two mugs entwined between the fingers of one hand and a smile on his face.

"How're you feeling, kiddo?" Spencer forced out a humourless laugh. "Okay, talk to me."

"How do you think I'm feeling?" asked Spencer darkly. David pursed his lips and handed a mug to the genius. Spencer accepted it and held it in his hands, balancing it between his legs.

"Let me guess. You're embarrassed because you had a seizure on the first date you've had in years. You're angry at everything, at Cat, for causing all of this." Spencer lowered his eyes to the comforter. "You forget that, not only am I profiler, I know you, Spencer. So, come on. Spit it out. "

"What did I do in this life or a past life to deserve this? What is it about me that makes people want to hurt me? I just want to do good and help people."

"And you do. Kid, you do a lot of good. More than you give yourself credit for." Spencer gave a disbelieving huff.

"Right."

"Spencer. We all care about you. You know that." David perched on the edge of the bed and placed a palm on Spencer's back. "I know you're struggling, but you're the strongest person I know. You have a lot of people who love you for who you are." Spencer unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. He picked at the bandages and unravelled them, staring down at the ghastly stitched cuts down in the inside of each arm. A tear dropped from his eye into his coffee.

"I did this. I did this." Spencer choked out a hot sob. David noticed Spencer's hand moving to the cut down his left arm. He managed to intercept the distressed fingers and clasped them firmly.

"Spencer? Please, listen to me. I once told a great man that scars show us where we've been, not where we're going. These do not define you. They tell us what you've endured. They tell us that you survived. Because you're strong." David took the mug from between Spencer's legs and placed it on the bedside table, setting his own down beside it. He shuffled around so that he could face the young man properly.

"No, they don't. They show that I'm a coward." David tilted Spencer's chin up slightly to make the young doctor look him in the eyes. Spencer swallowed hard against the collar pressing against his throat.

"Spencer Walter Reid. If there's one thing that you are not, is a coward. You're human. You're allowed to feel like this. Hell! I'd be worried if you didn't feel like this. I know that these cuts weren't made because you wanted to die. You made them because you wanted the pain to stop. It was a cry for help." Spencer's lip quivered and he squeezed his eyes shut, more tears forcing their way between his lashes. He brought a hand up to his mouth to suppress his shuddering breaths. David pulled the young man in close, allowing the chin propped up on the collar to rest against his shoulder. He moved his hand up to the back of Spencer's head and gently caressed his curls.

"Shh. It's okay, Spence. I'm always here. We're going to get through this together. Trust me when I say, you've got a great girl out there. She cares deeply for you. You're allowed to be vulnerable, kid. But you need to let us in and help you. Please, don't let it get to this again." Unable to nod, Spencer tapped the words 'thank you' in Morse Code on David's shoulder.

10/07/2019. 20:52 hours. David Rossi's House, Virginia.

Spencer had fallen asleep soon after he and David had finished talking. David had offered Mel his bed for the night and he would sleep on the sofa, insisting that he needed to be close by if Spencer had a nightmare. Mel quietly poured out some freshly made cocoa into two mugs in the kitchen and crept through the lounge. She stopped and eyed David sleeping soundly on the sofa, a deep snore emanating from the back of his throat. She smiled softly at him. The older man had loaned her some pink pyjama bottoms from his daughter Joy's closet. She padded her way to Spencer's room and knocked gently on the door.

"Come in," sounded from inside. Mel carefully moved both mugs to one hand and opened the door. She was taken aback by the sight of Spencer sitting up on the bed with no shirt on. The shades of black, purple and blue remained vivid on his chest from the repeated CPR. The neck brace pressed into his collar bones. His ribs were visible beneath his skin, expanding and retracting with every breath. His brows were knotted in concentration as he worked to bandage his left arm.

"Twenty-four," came Spencer's voice from behind the veil of his hair over his face.

"Sorry?"

"Twenty-four. That's the number of stitches I needed in both arms when I tried to kill myself. That doesn't include however many dissolvable sutures that they had to use when they grafted donor tissue to my veins." Spencer gave a frustrated huff and threw the bandage down on the bed. Mel could then fully see the extent of the wounds on his inner arms. Spencer looked up at her and wrapped his arms protectively around his waist.

"I brought you some cocoa. I figured we could watch something until you feel sleepy. Dave offered me his bed but it feels lonely up there. Can I help you with that?" Mel indicated to the bandages with a tip of her head. Spencer guiltily looked down at the first aid kit.

"Please." His voice was low, almost a whisper, but Mel had heard it. She set the cups down on the bedside table and sat on the bed in front of the young man, curling her legs underneath her. She held out a hand. Spencer unfurled his arms and extended his left arm to her. Mel's touch was gentle as she expertly wound the bandage around his arm and secured it at the end near his wrist with some medical tape.

"I'm sorry you had to see all that… My seizure… This… I'm struggling to come to terms with everything."

"You don't need to be sorry for everything. I asked Luke what had happened that started all of this." An expression of concern flickered across Spencer's face. "I wanted to understand. I truly meant it when I said I liked you, and whatever this turns out to be, be it a friendship or more, I need to understand so I can help." Spencer blinked and lifted a hand to Mel's face, the backs of his long fingers brushing delicately across her skin. Her skin was like cashmere to his coarse touch. Mel's cheeks flushed, turning the colour of her hair. Spencer leaned in close. His coffee-scented breath was warm against Mel's cheek. His lips tickled against her, kissing her softly. At the sound of Mel's breathing hitching slightly, Spencer drew back and looked away.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Shh." Mel turned his face back to hers and cupped his jaw. She shuffled closer and stretched up slightly, pressing her lips to his. Spencer's hands were immediately on either side of Mel's face, his fingers in her hair as he reciprocated the kiss.

In those few moments, it was as if the world stood still. Their hearts pounded in their chests, breaths stilted. Their tongues performed a tango with one another in the heat of the moment. They separated, their lips swollen and panting harshly. Spencer's face was flushed.

"What were you thinking of watching?" asked Spencer thickly, his throat parched. Mel had a coy smile dancing on her lips.

"I was thinking of the new Star Wars movie."

"Wait… There's a new one?"

"Mmhm. I'm going to put it on, we're going to snuggle, and you're going to be real quiet. No statistics or picking out the inaccuracies." Spencer's mouth gaped, unable to suppress his gasp of horror. Mel giggled and grabbed the remote for the smart TV. Spencer shimmied back so that he was sat up against the headboard and Mel curled up beside him. She rested her head on his bare chest and a hand on his stomach. Her hand gently rose and fell with each breath.

Mel took a moment to glance up at Spencer, his eyes fixed on the movie with child-like wonder and a tiny, genuine smile on his face. She knew in her heart of hearts that Spencer was the man for her. His touch was tentative, yet gentle. She was determined that she would show the genius the love he truly deserved.