Title: You Can't Understand
By: CSI-missy
Pairing: Morgan/Reid & Reid/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Summary: During a case, Morgan finds Reid in the hospital, instead of Vegas where Hotch and Gideon said he was. What happened to the young doctor.
Warnings: Deals with Abuse, assault and psycosis.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds

***

Derek Morgan had been trying for ten minutes to get his bosses attention. He'd began to talk to them several times, but couldn't get Gideon or Hotch to listen. He started to walk for the door, and turned to try one more time.

"Gideon! Hotch! I'm leaving!" he called. Jason Gideon was lost in the file and simply waved his hand dismissively. Aaron Hotchner was on the phone and his attention was not on Morgan.

Morgan finally just gave up and opened the door to the conference room and left. as he was leaving he ran into Elle Greenway in the hallway.

"I need to talk to Gideon, I think-" she started but Morgan held up one hand.

"Good luck. They're off in their own world."

"Okay." She shifted the stack of files she'd gathered from on arm to the other and watched Morgan head off again. He turned and looked back at her as he got to the desks.

"If they ask," he said pointing to the room where their bosses had started spending all their time, "tell them I went to the hospital to talk to Daniel."

Elle nodded.

"Morgan! Wait a second." Morgan stopped and looked back at her.

"What's up?"

Elle pointed to the empty desk across from hers. Neither had seen Dr. Spencer Reid that in the last week and she was starting to worry. Gideon's story was less than convincing.

"Do you believe that Reid actually went to Vegas to visit his mom? I mean, just like that? Out of the blue he decides to fly all the way across the country."

Morgan considered the question carefully. Then he shook his head.

"No. I don't think that he would do that. I don't think that Hotch and Gideon are being completely honest. I think if he did there are circumstances we don't know about. And I think that this is something personal of Reid's and it's not our business."

Elle sighed and nodded, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear and out of her eyes.

"You're right. I'll cover for you if I have to."

"Thanks, Elle." Morgan grabbed his jacket and left.

He got into his car and drove to the local hospital. That was where Daniel Terrance, the sixth victim of the Quantico Rapist, was recovering for her attack. It was a tragic incident that had left the petite young woman in a near comatose state. She was so pretty, and in such bad shape. Morgan was just going down to talk to the nurses and se if he could get any information at all from the doctors.

When he arrived at the ICU, a nurse led him to the isolated room where the seventeen year old girl lay. Her lean body was covered with bruises and there were long scars that had been stitched to stop the bleeding, and wrapped in gauze.

She was hooked up to an IV and still unconscious. Morgan turned to the nurse that had just finished changing Daniel's IV.

"How is she?" he asked. The nurse, Brenda Cale, shook her head and gave a weak smile.

"Not so good. She hasn't woken up yet, and she lost a lot of blood." Brenda had worked on one of the other victims, Cathy Be, who had died two days ago from her injuries.

"Think she'll make it?"

"I'm praying for her. Agent Morgan, promise you'll catch the monster that did this to these poor girls."

"I'm doing my damn best."

"They're so young. And after Cathy died…"

"We're doing everything we can. We're going to find him."

"I'll keep praying." Brenda nodded once as if to confirm what she'd just said. Morgan smiled at her.

"You do that. Did you finish the SART test?"

Brenda nodded and pointed to the table beside her.

"We just finished, I'll take it down to the CSIs. Agent Morgan, she's stable right now, but we don't know if she'll stay that way. If you need anything just ask."

She tried to force a smile, and then took a deep breath to compose herself. With that she disappeared into the hallway to deal with the rest of the tragedies.

Morgan stayed behind for a moment, and stared at the girl, saying a short silent prayer and asking God to ease the pain of the teenager.

On his way out, he looked into the other rooms through the windows. He looked at the people who were in so much pain, and wished he could help them as well. He knew he had to focus on the five girls who had been killed, beaten to death, by this monster. He knew he had to focus on finding the man who'd tried to do the same to Daniel.

As he looked at the other patients he saw something that caught his eye and made him stop. Standing by the window in one of the rooms was a tall, slender man in hospital scrubs, the kind you were allowed to wear if you were pretty much living in the hospital.

The man had sandy brown hair that went just past his chin and was staring absently out the window.

Morgan couldn't be sure, but the man looked like Reid. He shook his head to clear the strange though, and was about to walk away, when the man turned to face the side.

The profile view showed a slender face with drawn in features, like he hadn't eaten in months. Or simply drank too much coffee and was haunted by the ghosts of people he hadn't been able to save.

"Reid," said Morgan, his voice hardly a whisper.

Reid didn't hear him, but start talking to a person beside him. Morgan looked to see who the young doctor was talking to, but he realized there was nobody there. Morgan looked at the boy, who was he talking to?

"Excuse me, Brenda?" asked Morgan, flagging down the nurse from Daniel's room. He pointed through the window at Reid. "What can you tell me about him?"

Brenda looked at Reid and shook her head.

"Not a lot with out breaking, doctor patient confidentiality," she said.

"Well, can you tell me who brought him in? The paramedics? Did he drive? Was there someone with him?"

"No, an FBI agent…One of the ones that came in with you before. I don't remember his name, I think it was Aaron, or Adam, or something like that."

"Aaron Hotchner?" suggested Morgan.

"Yes! That was his name. He was the one that came in with you that first day with Cathy and asked me a lot of questions."

"What happened to him?"

"He was pretty beat up, needed a lot of stitches and attention. It was not easy to stop the bleeding. I think he might have had a psychotic break a couple days ago, since Dr. Canyel was in earlier and she's our resident psychiatrist. He's up and walking now, so he should be fine."

"A psychotic break?" asked Morgan.

"I can't talk about that, and I don't know for certain. I'm sorry, Agent Morgan, but I have to get back to work, good bye."

She walked off, leaving Morgan to stare at the figure before him. There stood a brilliant young doctor, with a promising future in the FBI, and a good friend of his. If Brenda was right, and if what he was seeing was any proof, Reid was talking to a person who didn't exist.

A tear rolled down his dark cheek as he watched Reid turn back to the window. He left the hospital, confused and alone, unsure of what to do next.

As he drove back to J. Edgar Hoover Building his confusion turned to anger.

He couldn't understand why Gideon and Hotch had lied to them? Why they didn't think that He and Elle and JJ deserved to know what had happened to their partner. To their friend.

Hotch had known. Hell, the Senior Agent had brought him in and probably concocted the lie as well.

Why hadn't they said that Reid was in the hospital? They, as his friends and partners, should've known, should've been able to go see him and help him through this.

When he got back to the J. Edgar Hoover building, the questions and the betrayal had turned his anger into a full fledged rage.

He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the BAU level of the building. Hotch and Gideon were still in the conference room they'd been holed up in all day and Morgan threw open the door and let it slam shut behind him.

He took long steps until he was an inch from Hotch's face. He pushed the older agent into a wall with more force than necessary.

"Morgan!" yelled Elle in shock.

Hotch didn't have time to really react before Morgan was in his face.

"Why the Hell would you lie to us?" he yelled.

"What are you talking about?" asked Elle, stepping up to try and pull Morgan away.

"Reid isn't in Vegas. He's in the hospital!" yelled Morgan again.

"What?" asked Jennifer Jareau, now also standing and watching what was happeing.

Morgan stepped back and looked at Hotch, who had yet to speak or do anything to stop Morgan's outburst.

"Hotch drove Reid down to the hospital a week ago. The nurses say that Reid was in bad shape, beaten up and bleeding. They lied to us."

"You mean…what happened?" asked JJ. Morgan looked from Hotch to Gideon, who was still quietly seated at the table, and back at Hotch. He shook his head.

"Why don't you ask them," he said, indicating to the two men.

"Gideon? Hotch? What happened?" asked Elle.

Hotch stepped away from the wall and turned to Gideon.

"I guess we have to tell them now," he said. Gideon nodded, tenting his fingers in front of him and leaning his elbows on the table.

"We don't really have a choice," he said.

***

I knew something was wrong, or at least, I should've. I should've noticed how he flinched when people touched him, how he was so distant, but so close to all the cases. I thought he was just shy, but maybe there was something more, maybe he was hurt, and maybe I could have saved him. Now it might be too late.

Hotch took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. When he looked at the agents surrounding him he shook his head.

"During one of the cases, Reid was hurt, but the paramedics were busy with other patients, so I offered to take a look," said Hotch. The others slowly returned to their seats around the table. "He refused, said it was nothing and that he was fine."

"Sounds like Reid," said Morgan, arms crossed over his chest.

"You're right," said Hotch, nodding slowly. "I brushed it off as Reid being Reid and had decided not to worry too much. Eventually the paramedic did convince him to let them to a basic examination. The woman who did examine him said he had a lot of bruising that wasn't from the incident. A lot of partially healed bruises and a few scars from old stitches."

"What were they from? How did that happen?" asked Elle.

"I still don't know. Reid won't talk to me about it, and he won't tell Gideon or me. All I know is that a week ago I got a call from him, he sounded very weak, like he was in a lot of pain."

Flashback

"Please, Aaron, you have to help me."

"Reid? What happened? Where are you?"

"Home. Please. Help."

"Reid, what happened?"

"I can't. Just, please, help me."

"I'm coming, Reid. Just stay calm."

"I…I'll try."

"Hold on, Reid. I'm on my way."

End Flashback

"My God. What happened when you got there?" asked JJ, there was sheer panic in her eyes and she was on the edge of her seat with her eyes wide.

Hotch looked at Gideon, who nodded and let Hotch continue.

"The door was open and he was lying on the floor, unconscious. He was bleeding pretty badly, and bruised all over, like Morgan said. I don't know what happened, and he obviously couldn't tell me. I panicked and just tried to do what I could.

"I wrapped him up in a blanket off the couch, wrapped some of the deeper cuts and drove him down to the hospital. I just had to get him help."

"When did you find out about this, Gideon?" asked Morgan.

"Hotch called me from the hospital to tell me that Reid was in pretty bad shape and to make something up to tell you guys."

"What made you think you'd have to lie to us? Why didn't you just tell us the truth?"

"It was for Reid. Until he could tell us what happened, we didn't want anyone to know where he was, or why. We wanted him to be able to tell us and to get through this without everyone worried about him," said Hotch.

"But if we didn't know, we couldn't help him through it," said Elle and JJ nodded in agreement.

"We figured it'd just be a little while, that he'd be better in a couple days, but I guess we were wrong," said Gideon.

"You guess? Brenda told me that there was a psychiatrist there yesterday, that he might have had a psychotic break! People don't just gonna snap back from that!" said Morgan.

"Morgan's right, Gideon, what's gonna happen to him now? What are we going to do?" asked Elle.

"We're not really sure yet. We're just taking it day by day right now."

With in an hour it had been nearly unanimously decided that they would go and see Reid. Hotch had protested that it would be too overwhelming for Reid, but even Gideon had vetoed him.

At the hospital, Reid was asleep. Nightmares haunted his sleep and he tossed and turned, fighting what only he knew.

In his dreams a man stood above him, anger painted on a usually calm and compassionate face.

"What's the meaning of this?" the man yelled. Reid felt the carpet beneath him and curled himself up against the impending attack.

Something hard landed on his back, and he let out a whimper, trying to fight of what was happening.

"It's nothing! Just a tabloid!" he cried, raising his arm to defend himself from another fierce blow.

"A tabloid? A tabloid? You're in a tabloid?" the man screamed at him.

"I'm sorry, it's nothing!"

"It doesn't look like nothing! It looks like you're getting awfully cozy with that actress chick. Is this where you went all week? To hang out with the A-list Hollywood Starlets? Business you said, business! This doesn't look like business!"

The man whipped the rolled tabloid at the figure before him, before squatting down to look at his prey.

He grabbed a handful of the Reid's sandy brown hair and pulled him up so they were at eye level.

"You're gonna wish you'd never laid eyes on that blonde bimbo, Spence. You understand that? You promised that you were mine, and I expect you to remember that. Understood?"

Reid tried to nod, but the man's grip on his hair was to strong. A tear slid down his thin face as he prepared for the worst.

A scream alerted the nurses that their young patient was awake. Brenda rushed to his side, he was thrashing, crying and in obvious panic.

"Its okay, Dr. Reid, you're safe," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. His eyes opened quickly and the fear was intense.

"No, please!" he cried. Brenda looked up to see a doctor come in. She looked at Reid with fear and compassion.

"Doctor, he's panicking," she said. The doctor nodded and made a quick decision and pulled a needle from the drawer.

Reid's eyes widened in fear and he tried to push the young nurse away and fight away from the doctor.

"Dr. Reid, please, you need to stay still! It'll be okay." The doctor took the needle and injected the sedative into the IV.

Both the doctor and Brenda watched as Reid slowly slipped back into a dreamless sleep as the sedative took affect.

***

I should've been able to protect him; I should've been able to save him. This shouldn't have happened, I should've been there. I knew, somewhere deep inside of me, that something was wrong, but I did nothing, and now…he's hurt.

Broken. That was the only word that could accurately describe the fragile young doctor lying before them, framed by the sheets of his hospital bed.

They stood beside his bed and looked at him. JJ leaned on Morgan's shoulder and he wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders.

Hotch was quiet. He didn't want to them to know everything. In fact he'd preferred if they knew nothing. There were things that he hadn't even told Gideon.

He wanted to remind them that they had to stay focused on the cases; they couldn't always be here worrying. It felt so heartless to keep them in the dark, but he knew it was the only way. Reid had always been withdrawn, awkward, but lately it seemed more than that.

Hotch could remember trying to talk to the boy once before about what had happened to him.

"You have to tell me what happened," Hotch insisted. It was not the first time he'd said that to Reid since the first time the two had met. It would not be the last, he was sure of that.

As usual, and like he was expecting, Reid just shook his head, hands shoved into his pockets as deep as they'd go.

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry about me," he'd said, a shy smile creeping across his features. Hotch shook his head.

"Something's wrong, Reid, I know that. Sooner or later, you are going to have to tell me. It won't take long before the others catch on and then what?"

"I'll deal with that when the time comes, for now I just need space."

"No, you need help! I don't know what's going on in your life. I can never understand the way you lived before you came here, but I know hiding from us isn't the best way to deal with it. Reid, you have people here who care about you, who want to help you. Let us help, let me help."

"Hotch, its okay. I'll be fine." And with that he'd walked away. Hotch watched him go.

"Why don't I believe you?" he asked the empty space where Reid had stood.

After an hour, the others had left, leaving Hotch to sit with Reid. He didn't know why he stayed, maybe there was a paternal need to protect the boy, but he stayed anyways.

Reid's arms lay on the blankets by his side; he looked peaceful despite being hooked to monitors and IVs.

The green and yellow colour of healing bruises covered his thin arms. Most in the shape of hand prints, small circular marks of fingers dug deep into muscle breaking blood vessels.

Hotch wanted to reach out to the young man, wrap his arms around him, pull him close and never let go. Reid was like a son to him, a child that he had sworn to protect, and someone had hurt him.

But by who?

The night dragged on and Hotch eventually stood and left, leaving Reid in the care of the nurses, and at the mercy of his memories.

"Oh come on, Spence! You'd have nothing if it weren't for me! You know full well that you're mine."

"Please, I'm not yours! I don't belong to any one, especially not you."

"You. Are. Mine! And you always will be. Don't you forget that!" The man that haunted Reid had grabbed his arms, pushing him against a wall. Their faces inches apart.

"I let you into my life, why are you doing this to me?" Reid pleaded, tears forming from the pain in his arms.

"Because," he said slowly, "I own you. You're mine." Rough lips pressed against Reid's, and he knew it would be a long tired night.

Reid woke up with a start. The man in his dreams, in his memories, was supposed to be his friend. He'd let him into his life, a room mate to help pay the bills of his little town house. They'd become good friends, and then more. Long cold nights could be spent together and Reid could come home knowing that the house was in good shape.

Somebody was waiting for him. He'd like that idea so much he'd denied the fact that something was changing in the man he'd loved. He'd come home from one case and everything was different.

Somehow, something went terribly wrong. And when Reid had tried to ask the man to move out, he refused. Reid couldn't do anything, despite the fact that he was a federal agent. The truth was that he was terrified of what the man would do if he ever left; if he ever tried to get out. A tear slipped down his cheek bone to the covers of the bed, leaving a small mark on the sheets.

Help was hard to come by. Reid had started to understand why battered women didn't leave their abusers. They did not stay out of love or loyalty, but out of fear. He had found himself trapped.

"He's right," he whispered to the empty room, "he does own me."

He was about to drift off again when someone appeared from the shadows and caught the young doctor's eyes causing him to smile. The figure was of a young man, with shoulder length blonde hair he kept pulled back in an elastic, and off blue eyes that showed nothing but kindness.

Reid only knew the man as Robert, and he knew that he could trust him. Robert had never been apart of Reid's life before, but he seemed to show up when Reid needed him the most.

Reid's bruises had all by healed, leaving only faint green and yellow marks where black and blue welts had once been. He could only stand for a little while, but he made sure to stand by the window each day, to enjoy what little life he could.

"It's not your fault, and he doesn't own you. You're going to be okay, Spencer," said the man, Reid looked across the room.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered, tears flowing freely now. Robert walked across the room and put a hand on Reid's thin shoulder.

"That's not like you. You always know what to do." Reid smiled softly, looking down at his hands, which were carefully folded in his lap.

"Now I don't. I didn't know how to get out of this, and now look where it got me."

"It's not your fault, just remember that. You use those words on victims, and tell parents that. Now listen to them yourself. You're the victim. You can't blame yourself. It's not your fault."

"But it is. I didn't get out when I still could. I failed myself. I let this happen."

"No. You didn't fail. You're still alive."

***

I can't watch him suffer anymore, I can't just sit here. I should be trying to find the guy who did this to him, but I don't want to leave his side. What can I do? Nothing. I have to stay here; I have to be here for him.

Three days had past since Morgan had found Reid in the hospital and the team had tried to be by his side, for at least a little while, everyday.

Reid was still in his room in ICU, still living there, still recovering and still not talking about what had happened. Or anything that had led up to the attack.

He was doing better, or so everyone thought. The doctor wasn't so sure. When the team arrived that day he took Hotch aside to fill him in.

"Agent Hotchner, I'm afraid that I have bad news for you. Dr. Reid's condition is, in a sense, stable, but I don't think it'll stay that way."

"What do you mean? He's taking his medication, he's doing well. He might even be able to leave soon, right?" Dr. Richards shook his head.

"No. He's not fine. He is taking his medication and he seems to be recovering, but I'm not sure he'll be 'okay'. Some of his recent tests don't look promising. In fact, they look quite the opposite."

"I don't understand. I thought you guys were able to fix the damage. Didn't you?"

"We did. But-" He didn't get to finish.

There was a low and painful scream from Reid's room. The two bolted back in the room, Reid was sitting up, holding his gut, screaming in pain. Morgan was at Reid's side, grasping his shoulder.

"Reid? Come on, what's wrong?" he asked. All eyes were on the Reid as he looked up at the doctor.

"It…hurts!" he cried, dropping his head again and cringing in pain.

"I knew it," said the doctor, entering the room and checking Reid over.

"What are you talking about? What's going on?" asked Hotch.

"His kidneys are failing."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Morgan.

"There's damage. Nurse! Get this patient to the ER, now!" Two nurses came in and rolled the bed away. They kept Morgan and Hotch back as they left, leaving the team of agents and the doctor in the room alone.

"Alright, tell me exactly what happened," said Hotch.

"You recall that there was significant damage to his kidney's when he was brought in? We tried to fix it while he was in surgery, but I suspected that it wouldn't last for long."

JJ's hand flew to her mouth, and Elle wrapped her arm around the younger woman.

"Why?" asked Hotch.

"Why did I know this was going to happen? There are plenty of symptoms. A general weakness of his body, which is explainable by other problems is the first. He was also anaemic, which could be because of poor diet, but the increase in hyperkalemia, or potassium levels, in the blood, gave me the impression there was damage and that his kidneys were failing."

"And why are his kidneys failing? How were they damaged?" asked Elle.

Dr. Richards looked at Hotch for a second.

"I can't say for sure, but there appeared to be a fairly large hole in Dr. Reid's abdomen. Other then that you're going to have to ask him, or Agent Hotchner."

"A hole?" asked Morgan. He stared at Dr. Richards for a moment before turning his attention to Hotch.

"You need to tell us the whole story, now."

Hotch shook his head, he didn't want them to know, he wanted them to stay focused, but Morgan was right, the needed to know. The hole in Reid's abdomen, the bullet wound he'd hoped they wouldn't find out about, was possibly going to kill him.

"When I got to Reid's house, he had been shot." The statement was followed by a collective gasp from the group of agents.

"My God, what happened? Who shot him? Why didn't you tell us?" asked JJ. Hotch held up a hand.

"I don't know the whole story, and I still don't know who, but Reid didn't have his gun. He was pretty worse for wear, bruises and some deep cuts. I never did get to talk to him about them. I honestly don't know what happened."

"Why didn't you tell us what you knew?" asked Elle.

"Is anyone looking into this?" asked JJ.

"CSU and metro are looking into the case, I told them not to talk to you."

"Why?" asked Morgan. "Why is it so important that we don't know?"

"Because you have a case, you need to be focused."

"Focus my ass! One of our team is dying! We should be helping him!" yelled Morgan.

"You think I don't understand that? Do you think this is easy for me, Morgan? I think of Reid as my own son! I know this is the hardest thing in the world for any of us, but we have to stay focused. We have a job to do!" shouted Hotch back. He'd tried to keep his own temper in check, but it was getting very difficult.

"Forget about the case! We have to help Reid!"

Gideon looked across the empty bed, torn between what Morgan was saying, and what he knew was right.

"And what about the victims? What about the Quantico Rapist? Are we going to let him get away? You want justice for Reid, but what about those girls?" Gideon's voice was calm, and honest.

Morgan looked down, fighting to get control of himself.

Gideon was right. They needed to focus; they needed to get back to work. But they couldn't just leave Reid there.

"We should have a rotation. So someone is always with Reid," he suggested. The girls nodded in agreement, and then Hotch and Gideon followed suit.

"I'll stay until he's out of surgery," volunteered JJ.

"I'll come over right after that. In say two hours," said Elle.

"Alright, now the rest of us need to get back to work," said Hotch.

"It just seems so heartless to leave him here like this," said Morgan.

"I know, but it's all we can do. It's what Reid would want. For us to help those girls and do our jobs," said Gideon.

The four of them stood and left, leaving JJ to wait for Reid.

The surgery was brutal. They'd opened him up and tried to repair the damage, but it was pointless. They'd ended up removing the kidney that'd been shot. Luckily you can live with only one kidney.

After hours in surgery, Reid had been wheeled back to his room to recover. He was on a high dose of morphine for the pain, and sedatives to keep him calm and asleep. That was on top of the anaesthesia that had put him out for the surgery.

As the sedation wore off, Reid drifted from darkness into memories, into dreams of what had happened.

He'd made up his mind, he couldn't do this anymore; he wouldn't do this anymore. He wouldn't be the victim in this twisted relationship; he wouldn't accept this as his fate. He'd been there, and he never wanted to be there again.

He wanted out, and he wanted his life back. He'd tried a few different agencies that catered to battered women, but they hadn't been able to help him. Most had told him that because they were not married, they couldn't really help him. And even if they were, there was a lot of difficulties.

That night, when Don, the man he'd shared his life with for almost a year, came home he confronted him. In all his life he'd never expected to have to do this.

"Don, we need to talk," he said, the older man looked at him from the doorway of the house.

Don was tall, well over six feet and more then two hundred pounds of muscle. He was in construction, and he had been a football player in high school. He created the look of a force to be reckoned with. But he was beautiful, all short dark hair and sky coloured eyes. Women who met him loved him; men who met him hated him, unless they loved him, as Reid had.

"You're right, Spence. We do." Don took a step forwards, into the room, closing the door behind him and locking it. Reid took a step back, trying to maintain the distance between himself and his much stronger lover. More importantly, he was trying not to lose control of the situation. He needed to talk the man down, like Hotch or Gideon would. He would not be walked on. Not today.

"You need to leave," said Reid, gathering all his strength and putting it behind each word. He tried to think of the imposing look that Hotch gave to suspects, or the smug and powerful figure that Morgan was. He wished he was anyone but the weak young boy he saw himself as.

Don smiled and gave a silent laugh.

"I do, do I?" he asked, taking another long step towards Reid, so that there was only a few feet between them. He towered over Reid, but Reid stared across the room and up into his eyes and nodded.

"Yes, you do. If you don't, I will be forced to call the cops." This time Don laughed out loud.

"You're gonna call the cops? And tell them what? That I won't leave? That I beat you? What are you going to tell them, Spencer? No matter what, they'll never believe you."

"Yes they will, Don. I'm an FBI agent, and they will listen to me. You have to leave. Now."

"No." Don stepped quickly and pushed Reid, causing him to fall to the floor, beside his bag.

"You, Spencer, can't tell me anything. I'll leave if and when I want to. And I don't want to. I love you too much to leave you here alone. You're just gonna have to deal with that."

Reid slid himself closer to his bag and reached in, pulling out his gun. The same gun that Hotch had given him the day they took down the LDSK together. He focused on all the training, on all his experience, and told himself that he could do this.

He held it high, aiming between Don's piercing blue eyes. Don laughed.

"What? Are you gonna shoot me, Spencer?" He held his arms out, exposing his chest to Reid, who was still sitting on the floor. "Just try."

Reid pushed himself to his feet and pulled back the safety. His hands shook, his vision blurred and he blinked rapidly to try and stay focused. Hotch's calm voice recited the instruction to a perfect hit in his head.

"Leave. Now," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Don didn't leave, he took a step forwards, and before Reid could respond, the burly man attempted to grab the gun. The barrel pointed up and then Don pulled downwards and the gun went off facing, it seemed, at the floor. The shot rang out and Reid's eyes got wide as the pain hit.

The bullet tore through the soft flesh of his stomach, cutting into his body and out the other side into the floor. Reid let go of the gun, and he slipped to the floor. Don stood over him, eyes wide at the sight of Reid, covered in blood, dying before him. Then he turned and ran.

With all the strength he could muster, Reid grabbed his cell phone. He could hardly get it open, so he pushed the first number, speed dial one.

It rang once. Twice. A third time and a voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Please, Aaron, you have to help me."

***

If he was broken before, now he's beyond repair. I can hardly look at him, he's so weak. It hurts to see him in such pain. The only way to escape would be to leave, but I can't do that, I would never leave him, never.

Reid was bone thin, and his skin was taunt and pale as the sheets he was lying on. He seemed smaller than usual.

But it was his eyes that caught Morgan. They were sunken in and darker then he'd ever seen them. Thick dark circles around either eye gave the young doctor a haunted, almost skeletal look.

Morgan was sitting with him now, looking at the machinery that filled the room. Heart monitors, breathing monitors, and an IV, and so much other stuff all attached to Reid's tiny body. The defibulator paddles were near by, just in case, and he looked so small surrounded by the machines.

"Like a child," he thought. He flipped through a magazine, waiting for Reid to wake up. Behind him the monitors beeped in rhythm to Reid's breathing and heart rate.

Morgan was slowly dozing off. Served him right for taking such a late shift after such a long day at work. But he thought that when Reid woke up, he was going to want to know how the case was going and what he could do to help.

Morgan had thought about it all day and had decided that he'd tell him; give him something to think about, to take his mind off what happened. If Reid wanted to tell Morgan what happened, he would, Morgan wasn't going to push him. Well, he might, but he'd be nice about it; give Reid some time to think and breathe.

When Reid woke up he saw Morgan asleep beside him. He couldn't sit up, he felt so weak and helpless. He was tired, and his throat was dry and his head was pounding.

He almost said something to Morgan to wake him up when another figure caught his attention. His heart beat hard and painfully in his chest and the monitor beeped faster. He was certain it was Don, coming to finish him off. His breath was ragged and shallow as he prepared to fight, or to just wake Morgan to help him.

But the man that stepped from the shadows wasn't Don. It was Robert.

"You okay, Spencer?" he asked. Reid took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"I'll be okay, I thought you were…"

"Don?"

"Yeah. I'm so scared that he'll come back."

"Like I told you before, you're safe now. I won't let that man hurt you anymore. He can't come here. We're all going to keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Are you going to tell him?" Robert indicated to Morgan, still sitting there. His eyes closed.

Morgan wasn't asleep anymore. He had hardly been asleep before. Now he just sat there, eyes closed, listening to the conversation. He wanted to see who Reid was talking to, but he open his eyes, he just listened.

"I don't know. I don't think he even really wants to know."

"Why would he be here if he didn't want to help?"

"He's just like that. Here out of a sense of duty. Not because he cares about me."

That stung. Morgan couldn't believe that Reid actually thought that about him. He thought about it though, when had he ever gone out of his way to help the young doctor? Never.

"Maybe you're right. Or maybe you should talk to him. It doesn't matter. You should tell someone though."

"I will. I just can't yet. They didn't even know about me. About…about Don."

"You never gave them the chance."

"They'd have hated me."

"You don't know that for sure."

"I guess."

There was a moment of silence before Robert sat down on the bed.

"How are you?"

"I've seen better days. Can't say I've seen worse, but I'll be okay. I hope."

"Are you taking all you're medication?"

"Most of it."

"What aren't you taking?"

"I won't take the Psyc Meds. They numb my soul. I know. I saw what they did to mom. I can't go through that. And I'm not crazy, so I won't take them."

"That's okay. You're a doctor too; you know what you're doing."

"Thank you, Robert." Morgan made a mental note to try and figure out who 'Robert' was.

"I feel so weak," said Reid.

"You should sleep then. Don't worry, I'll watch for Don. And he's here. Even if it's just duty like you think, he'll protect you."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How'd you get in?"

"Flashed my ID, and smiled. Told them I was here to protect you. They understood. Your nurse is pretty cute."

"I'll be sure to let her know." And with that, Reid drifted back to sleep.

When Reid woke up the next morning, Morgan was sitting there with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a magazine lying open across his lap.

"That's just cruel, Morgan," he said, indicating to the steaming cup.

"Sorry. I tried to get you some, but the Nurse Brenda grabbed it and yelled at me for about ten minutes about how it'll kill us both. I even added all the sugar I could get my hands on. Which, by the way, left none for my coffee."

Reid smiled. Morgan returned the smile, glad for the gesture of kindness after the remark last night.

"So, how's the case going?" asked Reid. Morgan shook his head, he knew Reid would ask.

"It's okay. There are seven victims now, but we're getting a profile out and we've had a few suspects come through. None panned out really."

"What's the profile?"

"You think you'll find him in the hospital?"

"Ha ha, very funny. I just want to…feel like part of the team still."

"You are part of the team. I'm just messin' with you."

"If you thought the nurses were strict about coffee, you should see them about my mental health. They think I'm crazy."

"I've known that since I met you."

"Don't tell them that, please. I was hoping you could vouch for my sanity."

"Oh. Sanity I can vouch for." The two laughed. Morgan decided not to ask about Robert, not just yet.

"So, what about the profile?" asked Reid.

"Oh, yeah. White male between the ages of thirty and forty. We figure he's a pretty smart guy with good people skills. He's probably charismatic and charming as it seems that he doesn't actually abduct the girls, just sweet talks them away. He's a tough guy, and killing is not part of the MO, just torture. The victims were all beaten to death, but no signs of actual attempted murder.

"He's kind of confusing though, he dropped all the girls off at the hospital."

"That is weird. But you did just describe half the doctors I've met here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, take Dr. Richards for example. He's in his mid- to late thirties, smart guy, charming and charismatic, he's really strong too. He told me once that it hurt to not be able to save everyone, but if someone dies you have to distance yourself from it, otherwise it hurts too much. He says most doctors have 'deal with death by walking away'."

"If you see anyone who seems like a rapist, give me a call then okay."

"Got it." There was an awkward silence.

Morgan couldn't take it. Silences were awkward enough, but after what he'd heard the night before he couldn't stand a silence with Reid. He closed his magazine and looked right into Reid's eyes.

"Reid. Who's Robert?" Reid dropped his eyes and he turned slightly pink.

"You were awake last night?"

"Yeah, I heard you talking to someone, you called him Robert."

"You heard what I said, about you?"

"Just being here on a sense of duty? Yeah, I heard that. Gotta say, Reid that hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not true by the way. You wanna know why I'm here? I'm here because I care, I volunteered to be here. There was no 'sense of duty' involved at all. You're my friend, I'm not going to let someone hurt you."

"I'm sorry." Tears made little rivers down his face and Morgan felt his heart break. After all Reid had been through, he didn't need Morgan's tyranny to add to it.

"It's alright. I understand. Now, who's Robert?"

"An old friend. It's pretty cool that he'd come all the way to Quantico to see me. Although I don't know how he knew. Probably heard it through the medical board, since he's a doctor."

"That must be it. I heard you're not taking your Psyc meds? What'd Robert say about that?"

"He said I was doctor, I knew myself best."

"Doesn't sound like something a doctor would say."

"You're not gonna tell Dr. Richards, right?"

"It's not up to me, Reid. You need to take them, and you need to talk to your doctors. Take your meds, Reid, for us?"

"Yeah, okay." Morgan was pretty sure he wasn't going to take them, but he didn't say anything.

The room drifted back into small talk and profiling until Hotch showed up, almost an hour later.

"Hey, Reid. How are you?" he asked from the doorway.

"Tired of everyone asking that," he said. Hotch and Morgan exchanged a smile and Morgan stood.

"I should go. Got a case to solve and all that fun stuff. If I don't check on Garcia soon, she might never speak to me again and then you'd have to deal with her."

"Wouldn't want that," joked Hotch.

"Definitely not," said Reid, slightly more serious.

"Before I leave, can I talk to you, Hotch?" asked Morgan.

"Sure, I'll be right back, Reid." They stepped out of the room and closed the door. "What's up?"

"Reid's not taking his Psyc meds. He decided that he wasn't crazy and stopped taking them."

"Are you sure?"

"I heard him last night, telling someone named 'Robert' that he didn't need them."

"Who's Robert?"

"I don't know. I don't think he exists though. I didn't hear anyone talk back to Reid, but he had an entire conversation last night."

"That's what happens when he doesn't take his meds. I'll talk to him."

"Thanks, Hotch. He wouldn't listen to me if I talked to him. He thinks I'm here on a sense of duty."

"You heard that last night too, I presume?"

"Yeah. And he's scared of someone named Don. Probably whoever shot him."

"Don? You're probably right. I'll talk to him. Thanks, Morgan."

"No Problem." Morgan walked off down the hall and Hotch watched him go before heading back into Reid's room.

"What was that about?" asked Reid, Hotch looked down at the frail figure before him.

"Morgan wanted to tell me about the conversation you had last night."

"About what I said about him?"

"That too. More importantly, about you not taking your meds."

"He said he wouldn't tell," scowled Reid. Hotch almost laughed.

"You sound like a four year old. Reid. You need to take that medication; it's for your own good. They wouldn't have prescribed if they didn't think you needed it."

"But I don't need it! I'm not crazy!"

"Who's Robert?"

"A friend. He's a doctor."

"And you never wondered how he knew what happened?"

"I didn't ask. Why?"

"Reid," Hotch sat down in the chair beside the bed and took Reid's hand in his. His eyes met Reid's, holding the empty stare from brown eyes that looked far too big and were sunken in so much. "He's not real."

Reid stared at Hotch for a second; then shook his head slowly. Tears filled his eyes, streaming down his face.

"You're wrong. He is real. I'm not making him up, he's not a hallucination. Hotch, I am not becoming my mother," he whispered the last part, Hotch almost didn't catch it.

That's why he didn't want to take the meds; he didn't want to become his mother.

"You're not going to become your mother," he said. Reid turned his head to look at Hotch.

"You're right, I'm not crazy."

***

For the first time he was alone. No one from the team was there, and the nurses had left him alone. So Reid sat up, swung his feet over the bed and tried to stand.

He'd been in the hospital for two and a half weeks now and he was tired of being stuck in bed, unable to go anywhere alone, and trapped. He felt so trapped with all the people watching him. He just wanted to walk, and leave and not be stuck here anymore. But they weren't ready to let him go.

He was attached to an IV still so he grabbed the stand it was on and used it for support. He wished that he had the strength to walk alone, not needing to be held up. He walked over to the window; the one thing that he was sure was keeping him sane. He loved that he could look out of his prison and see the courtyard below him. He could see the people, the patients and the world that was still going.

He didn't want to go far, just get out of that damn bed. He rested his head against the cool pane of glass and closed his eyes.

How did he always end up in situations like this? Don wasn't the first person to take advantage of him. It seemed like everyone in his past had wanted something from him, something that would tare him apart and nearly kill him. Wasn't there anyone in this world who just wanted him to be himself? He missed his mother, who when she was lucid, had asked for nothing more than his love. He felt so guilty that they had put her away. He suddenly understood what she had gone through in that moment when the men had come to take her away. The guilt filled his heart and tore him apart so tears formed in his eyes. Was it because of that that people wanted so badly to use him? Had he ensured a karmic balance that meant pain for him?

No, this had started way before then.

He'd helped people get through university and high school only to end up with nothing for himself but pain and a lack of sleep. But it went back much farther then that. His few memories of his father, were never good ones. There was a picture on his wall at home of him, two or three years old, between his mother and his father, smiling like a small child should. His family was happy then. It was before his mom got sick, after that, it seemed everything was his fault.

"Look what you did to her! This is all your fault, you useless boy! Why can't you be like other boys, why do you have to be a freak?"

"I'm sorry! I can't help it! Please!" A small child, nine years old cried as his father brought his belt down on him. It hit his arms, his back, and his legs, everywhere.

"Your mother is sick! It's all your fault!" His father grabbed his shirt and pinned the small child to the wall, knocking the breath out of his lungs.

"Please," he cried, it was all he could get out. Gasping for breath between sobs and trying to stop the flow of tears.

"Please what?" asked his father.

"Please, stop." His father laughed and dropped the child to the ground. He headed to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the pantry. Spencer Reid lay on the floor, afraid to move and anger his father more.

Jeremy Reid took the Whiskey back to his bedroom and slammed the door. Spencer lay on the floor, and cried himself to sleep.

His mother was in the hospital for the first time. She'd hurt herself because she had seen something that wasn't there. Her nervous break down meant a stay in the psych ward of the Las Vegas hospital. Jeremy Reid had blamed his son. It would not be long before he left, leaving his brilliant son in the care of his sick wife. He could not do this for much longer.

In the present, Reid forced his eyes open and looked around the hospital room that was his home and his prison. It was small, cold and white.

He needed something to think about, some problem to solve, some person to profile. He needed something to take his mind off the pain, and the memories, but the BAU was somewhere in Texas, chasing down another serial killer.

The Quantico Rapist had been caught only two days ago, turning out to actually be one of the doctors in the hospital. Morgan had given Reid a smile and congratulated him.

It hadn't taken too long after that and they, the team minus Reid, were on the move again. He wished he had someone to talk to, something to take his mind off the memories.

"Doing better, Spence?" asked a voice from the door. Reid smiled. He'd come to realize that Robert was always around, especially when he was needed. It didn't make sense, but Reid actually didn't care. Some part of his mind considered that this was because he imagined Robert, but the rest suppressed that thought very quickly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. I'm just…thinking."

"About what?" The doctor moved into the room and leaned on the window as well. His strong shoulders pressed flat against the pane of glass, head turned to one side so that he could still look at Reid.

"My dad, and when he left, everything before. My mom, when she was sick and when she was healthy. I guess it's just the past in general."

"You don't think in the general terms, Spencer. What's going on?"

"When I was a kid, after my mom got sick, my dad…started drinking a lot. He was so angry that he couldn't help my mom he took it out on me. He told me it was my fault and he would beat me. I guess because of what happened with Don, I just started thinking about the abuse.

"It's more about how nobody noticed. Nobody noticed the bruises, or how I responded to others. They just said it was that I was awkward and that obviously there was something I was doing to myself. They pretty much told me that it was my fault."

"No," said Robert, putting hand on Reid's shoulder. "You know it's not your fault. You were just a child. You didn't know what was happening and you couldn't have done anything. You were a victim, not the cause."

"I know. But it doesn't change years of abuse, or the fact that he left us. He ran away because he couldn't deal with it, but not before turning my life upside down. It doesn't change the fact that all my life I was told that I was the one to blame."

"Only you can let go of the past. You need to let go and move on."

"I try. But with Don in the picture, I just can't seem to stop dragging up the past. There are so many parallels and it's the same thing all over again. Someone I loved, trusted, and who I thought loved me. I just keep getting hurt."

"Look at me, Spencer. I can't fix the past, I can't change what you went through, but I can help you through this. Think of Lila. Think of JJ, and Elle and the rest of your team. What did they see in you?"

"A child."

"No. What did Lila see in you?"

Reid considered it a moment, thinking of the beautiful starlet that had stirred something in him. She'd made his heart race, his mind spin and his body feel like it was on fire. She had smiled at him, kissed him, and he had saved her.

"She saw a hero."

"Yes. And the rest of the team thinks of you as a member of the team, as a friend and a brilliant doctor. You can make a difference. You saved that girl's life. You saved Hotch in that hospital when you shot that man. You saved Elle on the train. These are the things that you have done. Don't give up." Robert smiled and then turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Not far. If you need me, just call."

"Thanks. Yes, I'll make sure to ask. You're welcome. Good-bye." Hotch hung up his cell phone and dropped it back into his pocket. He turned to Gideon.

"Who was that?" asked Morgan. They were all crowded into the conference room of the Houston PD, but they're minds were miles away in Quantico with Reid.

"That was Quantico Metro Police, they have a lead on Reid's case. Partially thanks to that name you over heard."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," said Elle "what'd they have to say? Who is this guy?"

"They were talking to a few neighbours who say there was another guy living in Reid's house."

"What are you saying?" asked Morgan. "That this guy, Don, was living with Reid? That Reid let him into his life?"

"As far as anyone can tell he was a roommate, maybe more but they aren't sure, and there was a few heated arguments coming from the house. The neighbours on either side said that they could hear shouting during the night."

"Nobody thought to call the cops?" asked JJ.

"It would appear not. The neighbours didn't know the guy's name, but from the name Morgan over heard and some of the prints in the place they found one guy. His name Don Taylor. He's got a few domestic violence charges and complaints, but no actual arrests."

"Why didn't Reid know this? He wouldn't just let anybody into his life?" asked Morgan.

"Yeah, he would've looked the guy up; taken care not to get into trouble like that," added Elle. Gideon shook his head.

"Because, Reid didn't think he'd need to. He's an FBI agent. He probably thought he'd be okay."

"Not Reid. He's too careful for that," said Elle.

"Yeah, but he does have an ability to find trouble," said Hotch. They all nodded.

"Have they found this Don character yet?" asked JJ.

"Not yet. But there's an APB out on him, his car and all his credit cards. But a guy like this is a master at slipping through the cracks of the justice system. I wouldn't hold your breath," said Hotch.

"We can't just sit back and let him get away with what he did to Reid! We should be other there too, helping find this bastard," yelled Morgan.

"We have no choice. We have a job of our own to do. There are people whose job is to find people like Don. Our job is to find this UnSub and to put him in jail. As much as we all want to do one thing, we must do what is right," said Gideon.

He stood up and left the room, leaving his team to consider what he had said. This was the proverbial 'right' thing to do; to stop a serial killer preying on teenage boys. But it was not what they wanted to do. Reid was their priority, but they had to do what they were doing now. In the end they all agreed, as much as they wanted to help, there really wasn't anything they could do.

***

Reid was still sitting by the window when Brenda, the nurse who had made him her sole priority, came to check on him. She had seen her fair share of patients, and had worked with many people, but there was something special about Spencer Reid. Maybe it was the details of his case, and that he reminded her so much of someone she used to know. It was possible that it was just because he was kind, and intelligent and so terrified.

She watched him for a second as he stared off into the distance, waiting for the next memory to sink in. He had told her that if he didn't keep his mind occupied that he found himself troubled by things from the past. She didn't know it but he was getting used to the continuous stream of memories, of heartache and pain that was all but inevitable.

Reid stared out at the grounds and the people, unaware that Brenda was watching him. He thought about the things that he had control over, and the things that had happened in his life.

He couldn't change the past, Robert had told him that, but he wished he could. Brenda put her hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. She had a kind smile and soft eyes; the kind you wanted on a nurse. She took care of him, and brought him puzzles and books to take his mind off of the things he didn't want to think about. She took care of him like nobody had in his life.

This time she was there to take his vitals and give him his medication. He held the little cup of pills in his hand, a glass of water in the other, and looked down at the cocktail of medications.

He smiled at Brenda and she walked away, giving him a comforting smile as she left the room. He stared at the pills and then back out the window.

He pulled the anti-psychotics out of the cup and dropped them in the water he wasn't planning on drinking. The anti-psychotics dissolved as he dry swallowed the rest of the pills, mostly vitamins and a few others to keep him stable. He was tired of being here, he wanted to go home.

He sighed, was there even a home left for him? Could he look around the little town house and not think of what had happened? Could he face his neighbours after being rushed away in an ambulance?

He wasn't ashamed of what'd happened, well maybe a little, but he didn't want the fake sympathy they'd shower on him. They didn't know him, and they hardly talked to him. But they would want to be there for him now, making sure he was okay because they thought it was the right thing to do.

He didn't want people, any people, asking what happened and nosing about in his business. He didn't want to go home, but he didn't want to stay here. He was struck by the though that he had nowhere to go. That was a depressing thought, and it just made being stuck in the hospital that much worse.

He wished that the rest of his team were here, at least he'd have someone to talk to, or better yet, that he was out in Texas with them, trying to solve another case.

The BAU was in Houston, but they couldn't focus. No matter how hard they tried to, they found it impossible to work with out Reid there. Without Reid's crazy ideas that would eventually become sane, solid profiles, they seemed to have nothing. It wasn't just that they didn't have his ideas, but they didn't have him. He wasn't rapidly reading files and pointing out details they'd missed. He wasn't there to say something deep and thoughtful and even though there had been a time when they hadn't worked with him, now he was the heart and soul of the team.

Even Gideon and Hotch couldn't deny it anymore.

"We're leaving," stated Gideon at the end of another tiring day with little progress. All he received for his statement was confused looks from his tired agents.

"Are you serious?" asked Elle, looking at him from under heavy eyelids; she hadn't slept in two days.

"Yes, pack your things; we're going back to Quantico."

"What about-" started Morgan, but Gideon held up a hand.

"Local PD has already been informed of our departure. They understand that we cannot work while one of our own is in the hospital, and the person who hurt him is still at large."

"But, we've never left a case half done," said JJ, not really arguing, but stating the obvious.

"We've done all we can, and there is another profiling team on their way. We're going home, now get a good night's sleep and get ready to leave. Six o'clock lobby call, be ready or you'll stay here."

Gideon turned on his heel and left the team to absorb the information. Their sleep deprived brains were having a hard time comprehending the idea of leaving another team in charge, and an even harder time realizing that they were going home to help Reid.

"We're going home?" asked Elle.

"Sounds like it," said Morgan. The three agents looked at Hotch, who had been silent the entire time.

"Is he for real?" asked JJ. Hotch nodded.

"We got a call earlier; Reid's condition is flickering from good to bad. He can get out of bed, and he walks around, but he's caught a few viruses and his immune system is down."

"So, he's getting sicker, but he's determined to get better?" asked Morgan. Hotch nodded again.

"Sounds like it. They have him on blood thinners to stop clotting and dialysis to take the strain off his kidney. They can't get him a transplant until he's recovered from the psychosis."

"You mean he hasn't yet?" asked JJ.

"No, he's not taking his medication, and they can't get him to."

"Why not?" asked Elle.

"He doesn't want to admit he's got a problem, he doesn't want to be considered crazy."

"It's not that bad to be considered crazy is it?" asked Morgan, "With the treatment he's supposed to be on he could return to a normal life; even work with the FBI again, right?"

"It's a little more difficult then that. It's not that he doesn't want the FBI to think he's crazy. He doesn't want to deal with the fact that there might be something wrong with him that he can't deal with. It goes so deep into his mind that he himself doesn't want to admit he's crazy."

"Why is it so difficult for him? I mean, obviously it's not an easy thing and he has every right to be scared. But I would think that someone as smart as he is would understand that with the proper treatment he'll get better," said Elle.

Hotch wasn't to one to disclose the personal lives of other agents, so he shook his head.

"I don't know, and if I did, I would leave it up to Reid to tell you."

"Because it's none of our business or because you don't want to invade?"

"Both. Now, go get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

Hotch left the three agents to contemplate the news. In the end they returned to their rooms to catch up on the much needed sleep.

The next morning, they met in the lobby, all their stuff packed up and ready to go. They're plane was waiting to take them home, take them back to Reid. On the plane they looked over the case files that Quantico PD had faxed to Gideon that morning, including his hospital records since they'd left and the progress of the investigation.

"Not a lot to go on, is it?" asked Morgan, Gideon nodded.

"Don hasn't used his credit card, cell phone or car since the attack. Something's not right."

"What if he's using Reid's stuff?" suggested Elle.

"Already checked that," said Hotch. "None of Reid's stuff has been active either."

"How about an alias?" asked JJ. "He could have a whole new identity set away for such occasions."

"That's a possibility, but the police haven't had any luck," said Hotch.

"Alright, when we get back to Quantico, we're going to split up and figure this out," said Gideon. "Elle, go down to the Hospital and see what you can get from Reid and his doctors. He probably won't tell you much, but make sense of what you get. Morgan head over to Reid's house and see what you can find out. JJ, I want you to check in with the police then schedule a press conference. It's been two weeks, and we need to find Don before he finds someone else to prey on."

"Got it."

When they got back, Elle headed straight to the hospital with out stopping at the Hoover building. She headed through the front doors and to Reid's room on the fourth floor, where Brenda stopped her just short of the door.

"I'm sorry, but you can't go in there right now," she said. Elle looked at Brenda, confused.

"Why not? You know that I'm with the FBI, and that I'm a friend of his. I've never had any trouble getting in before."

"Yes, I understand that, but Dr. Reid asked me not to let anyone in right now. He's got company, and he-"

"Who?"

"Pardon?"

"Who is in there with him?"

"I don't actually know, but-"

"Then they're not cleared to be in there and I need to talk to them too. Let me through." Starting to panic, Elle pushed past Brenda and into the room. She was led by the fear that it might be Don in there. Fearing even more that Don was finishing what he'd started and that Reid would get hurt when she could protect him.

When she got through the door, she saw that Reid was, much to her surprise, alone. He was talking to someone, but there was nobody in the room. Her heart slowed as the rush of adrenaline ended. Then her heart sank in pain. She knew what was going on.

Reid looked over at her and smiled.

"Oh hey, Elle, I thought you were still in Texas," said Reid.

Elle forced a smile, even though she wanted to cry. Reid was falling, and he didn't know it. Here she was, ready to give her life to help him and she couldn't do anything. It hurt more then she ever thought it would.

"Hey, Reid. How are you?"

"Actually, I'm pretty good today. I little sore, but generally fine. Oh, there's someone I want you to meet," he forced himself into a sitting position. "Elle, this is Robert," he signalled to an area of the room, where his mind saw a person standing.

Elle looked over and then back at Reid.

"Spencer…" she started, and he looked at her. Those deep brown eyes were filled with innocence despite what he'd been through. She took his hand, and he just knew that something was wrong. It was the look in her eyes, and the fact that she'd called him by his first name.

"Yeah?"

"Spencer, there's nobody there."

Confusion, realization, and then absolute hurt crossed his face in a flash and he turned away, facing the imaginary person. Elle didn't know what to do, what to say.

"No," he said looking back at Elle, tears welling up in his eyes and he shook his head quickly. "You're lying."

"Why? Why would I do that, Reid? What reason do I have to lie to you?"

"You have to be! I'm not crazy! I'm not!" he clutched the blankets, his heart raced and the monitor beeped rapidly. His breaths started coming in shallow gasps. Elle grabbed his shoulders.

"Reid! What's wrong? Reid!" she called. A doctor rushed in. Reid's breath came in rapid gasps, his heart was racing. There was so much commotion, such utter panic. Elle pulled back, away from him as the doctors and nurses swarmed in. She stood to the side, covering her mouth with her hands, and she fought back the tears that stung her eyes.

"He's having a panic attack! Ativan, stat!" yelled the doctor. I nurse handed him a syringe, and he pushed the clear liquid into the IV connected to Reid's arm.

Reid's breathing levelled out and his heart slowed down, he fell into a deep sleep. As he drifted off, Elle heard him chanting.

"I'm not crazy."

***

I realized, as I watched him sleep, that him had to let him go. I've hurt him too much. Is it possible for me to think and feel myself? Or are these Reid's feelings projected on to me, asking me to let him go? When he wakes up, I'm waiting.

His head was throbbing in pain and his eyes were blurry. The room was empty except a familiar figure sitting at the end of his bed, just as he had for so long. Reid almost couldn't remember a time when Robert hadn't been in his life. Even just the two weeks had seemed to last forever.

"I'm sorry," said Robert.

Reid somehow understood exactly why his friend was sorry. He nodded slowly and looked at the pills that, like every day before, had left for him.

He knew beyond a doubt that he didn't want to be crazy. He didn't want to be like his mother and fall into that horrible cycle of loss and remembrance, never knowing what was real and what wasn't. Still by accepting fiction and denying reality wasn't he doing what she did?

He looked at the man on the edge of his bed; a figure that had never made sense in his rational brain, but had been so great to have around. He didn't want to lose this friend, who had been there exactly when he needed someone. He wanted to keep that unconditional love close by and never let go. But Robert was a figment of his mind, made up and speaking from some part of his subconscious. He couldn't live like that, knowing that the person who understood him best was not really there.

He looked at the pills and then back at Robert, who nodded.

"I have too," said Reid.

Robert nodded, and watched as Reid swallowed all the pills and washed them down with a drink. He stood silently, walked over to Reid and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. And then, without a single word, he left. He walked out of the room and out of Reid's life. Reid reminded himself that this was the right thing, but it hurt to lose the only one that had never left.

"He wasn't real," he told himself, but it didn't hurt any less.

Elle walked in a moment later, she looked totally exhausted. She was nursing what appeared to be a mostly cold cup of hospital coffee and she looked like she was the one who'd spent the night in the hospital.

"Hey," she said, trying to force a smile.

"You look awful," he informed her, which earned him a real smile and a soft laugh.

"Thanks," she said, sitting in the chair beside his bed. "How are you?"

"I think I'm going to be alright." He smiled.

"Good. Dr. Richards says he can get you on the transplant list if you-"

"Keep taking my meds? I got the same speech. Don't worry, I took them." She laughed a little and Reid reached out and took her hand. His fingers were so thin they were like those of a skeleton. They were long and delicate and surprisingly strong as they closed around her hand. She couldn't stop the tears and she chocked back a sob.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's all right, Elle, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me anymore."

"Yes, but we always will," said Hotch from the doorway. He walked into the room and was soon followed by Gideon and JJ.

"Where's Morgan?" asked Elle.

"PD got a tip that Don Taylor had checked himself into an emergency street clinic in Washington D.C," said Gideon.

"Apparently he was shot almost two weeks ago. He was mostly patched up, but was starting to get a nasty infection that he decided might need medical care," said Hotch.

"Oh," said Reid, looking at his boss. "Yeah, I might've…" he trailed off.

"Reid," said Hotch, "you don't worry about it. He's not dead. Yet."

Reid looked up and gave him a questioning look and Hotch smiled.

"Morgan might take care of that," said JJ. Everyone laughed and Reid felt genuinely happy for the first time in ages.

"Thank you," he said, "all of you. I wouldn't have been able to do this alone."

"Well, we couldn't let you do it alone," said Elle.

"You mean too much to us," said JJ, sitting on the other side of Reid and taking his other hand.

"Reid, no matter what you think, we are always here for you. You're like family. You're like my son and we would all give our lives for you. We know that you would do the same for us. If you need anything, you only have to ask," said Gideon.

"I understand that now. It was hard before, but I think I understand."

"Reid, this team is a family. We look out for each other without question and we help people through the hard things. We don't judge or let other's get hurt. We do everything we can to make sure everyone is safe.

"Which is why we're here and not with Morgan," said Hotch. "Because if we were there, it would be my responsibility to tell him not to kill Don."

Everyone laughed, even Reid.

"Don Taylor?" asked Morgan. The man looked up, his blue eyes ice cold, his dark hair fly away, his face slightly cut and his shoulder was wrapped in gauze.

"Do I know you?" he asked in a gruff voice.

Morgan had been told exactly what had happened by one of the nurses. Don Taylor had admitted himself to the street clinic four days prior, complaining that his shoulder hurt.

The onsite doctor realized right away that the man had been shot, but considering the neighbourhood had thought nothing of it. They had diagnosed that the wound was infected due to inadequate care and Don had admitted he hadn't gone to a doctor.

Then a nurse had heard about the APB for a man that sounded a lot like their patient. When he had come in that day to get his injury looked after, the doctor had stalled him while a nurse called the police.

That was where Morgan had showed up. Now he stood facing the man he now knew to be Reid's attacker and he was alone, so nothing could stop him but his own self control.

"Not yet. I'm Derek Morgan; I work with your roommate."

"Yeah?" asked Don. He smirked slightly as though it didn't matter, like he hadn't nearly cost Reid his life. Morgan had to refrain from hitting the smug ass right there.

"Yeah, did you know that he's in the hospital right now? Got shot in the gut and beat up pretty badly." Don stood up, standing eye to eye with Morgan.

"So?" asked Don. "What are you insinuating?"

"That you put him there," Morgan's voice was not calm like it usually was, it was filled with anger and he had to fight to keep his cool. How could this guy be so calm after almost killing someone?

Don looked Morgan right in the eye then turned to bolt. He was fast, but Morgan was faster. He grabbed Don by the arm and put him in a police lock, intentionally putting all his weight on the injured shoulder, causing Don to gasp in pain.

"You shot a federal agent and nearly killed him. But he wasn't just any federal agent, he was my friend. Now did you really think that you were gonna get away with that?"

"This is," gasped Don, "police brutality!"

"Who's gonna stop me?" asked Morgan, leaning harder on Don's injured shoulder.

"Ah! I…want…a…lawyer!"

"Sorry, we're fresh out." Morgan leaned harder on the shoulder, daring the man to say anything. "Don Taylor you're under arrest," said Morgan, pulling out the cuffs, but Don took advantage of the situation and twisted out of Morgan's grip, throwing a punch that hit Morgan in the face.

Morgan took the hit, and Don was ready to fight. Morgan put his hand to his cut lip and felt the blood dripping down his jaw.

"You really think you're tough? Come on," taunted Don.

"You think beatin' the crap out of a guy that's pretty much half you're size is tough? Reid trusted you and you nearly killed him. That's weakness in my books. Now what do you have to prove by fighting me?" asked Morgan.

Don didn't answer, instead he took another swing at Morgan, but Morgan was ready this time, he grabbed Don's wrist and twisted it before slamming his knee into Don's gut. He released Don's wrist, and Don, not used to being the one getting beaten, swung again. Morgan dodged the fist, throwing one of his own and hitting Don square in the face, breaking his nose. Don threw his hands up to his face and doubled over in pain. Morgan took a step forward, and Don grabbed the closest thing he could find, a scalpel of all things. He turned and swung the tiny blade towards Morgan.

Morgan didn't hesitate, pulling out his side arm he fired, only once. The bullet ripped through Don's chest, and the big man fell to the ground.

Morgan dropped to one knee beside the man, looking at the lifeless body at his feet.

"That's for what you did to Reid. May you never harm another innocent soul again."

Morgan turned and left, telling the officer who'd just walked in to call the coroner.

Morgan arrived at the hospital an hour later, and went right up to Reid's room.

Elle and JJ were still sitting at Reid's side, Hotch sat at the end of the bed and Gideon leaned against the wall.

Morgan dropped Don's mug shot on Reid's lap. Reid looked at the picture, then up at Morgan.

"Can you honestly tell me that you've never seen that before?" asked Morgan. Reid shook his head.

"No. I mean, I've seen him before, but-"

"Don Taylor had a pretty lengthy criminal record for assault and battery. If this had gone to court, somebody would've said you knew. You're a lucky guy, and that's all that matters, but do me a favour and never do that again."

"I won't."

"I know, Reid. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over. We got him, and," Morgan held up his hand which had a nice bruise and a nasty cut. "I got him once for you too. Think I broke his nose."

"Thank you."

"Hey, just get yourself better. Who are Elle and I supposed to drop our paperwork on if you're stuck in here?" joked Morgan.

"It won't kill you to do it yourself for once," said Reid. More laugher; more smiles.

A shadow in the corner stood forgotten and ignored. Nobody even knew he was there this time. Robert knew- maybe because Reid knew- that this was the end.

Dr. Richards came in and Brenda helped ushered the agents out insisting they let Reid rest.

Four days later Reid was on the transplant list and doing well. Robert was nothing more then a memory, a kind shadow in Reid's life. He was waiting for the surgery, taking his medication, which now consisted solely of Psych meds and antibiotics, and he was feeling better.

Today only Hotch was there, the others having decided to let the senior agent pry the story out of Reid. They were, with a lot of difficulty, talking about Don.

"I know that this is hard for you, but you need to tell me what happened," said Hotch, "I need to know the whole story. Right from the beginning." Reid nodded, he'd promised to tell Hotch everything.

"I never really had trouble paying for things, but my house was kind of lonely. It was a nice place, but I was all alone. I thought I would get a roommate. Someone to make sure the house was clean and safe while I was away and who I could talk to when I was home."

"Alright, that's understandable. That's where Don comes in?"

"He seemed like an okay guy. He told me that he'd had some hard times with the law, and that his ex had tried to get him arrested for something he didn't do. I just got lured in to his story. I told him about myself, and we agreed that this would work out."

"So he was just that? A roommate?"

"That's how it started. He moved in about a year ago, and within a couple weeks we were really good friends. I don't really know what happened or how, but we…we ended up more than friends."

"You…were involved with him?"

Reid nodded slowly.

"Like I said, I don't really know what happened. I just…I thought I loved him. I couldn't tell you, because I didn't know how you'd react."

"You can always tell me anything, Reid. I want you to know that."

"I know."

"Then what happened?"

"It was a couple weeks after we became…involved that he started to get really possessive. He didn't like that I left all the time and he started to yell and accuse me of things when I got back. It wasn't long after that that he started to hit me occasionally."

"And you didn't do anything?"

"Hotch, when I was young my father did the same thing to me. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't fight him. You can't understand why I did what I did. I don't even understand why I put up with it for as long as I did."

"I can't believe I never noticed. I guess I'm not as good a profiler as I thought, if I can't even tell that one of my agents is being abused."

"It's not your fault, Hotch. I kept it pretty tight to myself."

"So how did you end up here?"

"I was tired of the abuse, I'd taken enough of it in my life, and I didn't need it from him too. I tried to get some help from legal aid, but there were a lot of restrictions and I kept missing appointments because we were out of state. So I took it into my own hands. I waited for him to get back from work one night and I told him he had to leave."

Reid stood as the door opened and Don walked in, dropping his coat by the door.

"Hey, Spencer."

"Don, we need to talk."

"Hey. I had a hard day. I don't want to talk, I want a beer."

"No. Don, you need to leave." Don stopped and looked at Reid. Reid was standing by the couch, empty handed and running on confidence.

"What?"

"You need…to leave."

"Why?" Don stepped closer, Reid stood his ground.

"Either you leave or-"

"Or what? You'll call the cops?" He was an inch away, staring down that Reid.

"Don, I'm not-" Don's hand appeared out of nowhere, knocking Reid over, into the chair behind him. Reid held his jaw, as he hit the ground.

"You can't do a damn thing!" shouted Don and Reid could tell the man had already been drinking. Reid reached into his bag. He retrieved his service pistol, a FBI issue 38 calibre special, the one Hotch had given him. When he stood up he held the gun; aiming at Don's chest.

"Leave, now!" he said, Don scoffed, stepping closer instead of farther away. After Reid had fallen the distance between the two had grown but only by a foot or so.

"You can't even fire that thing." Don knew that Reid was a FBI agent, but seemed to forget. Reid pulled back the safety and Don lunged, grabbing the gun, they fought and the gun went off. Reid stepped back, bleeding. Don turned to run. Reid still had the gun, he raised it and fired. The bullet hit Don's shoulder, but the big man was running on adrenaline and only lowed a little. Reid grabbed his cell phone, dialling as he went.

"You know the rest."

"You never intended to shoot him?"

"No, I just wanted him to know I was serious."

"Alright. Thank you. When's the surgery?"

"Hopefully tomorrow. Dr. Richards got everything set up."

"That's good. You'll be back at work soon?"

"Two months recover after the surgery."

"Good. Look, I'll be back later, JJ wants to see you and I think Elle is about to strangle Morgan."

"When isn't she?"

"Good point."

"Don't worry about me, Hotch. I'll be fine." Hotch smiled and stood up from his chair.

"I know you will. Good-bye, Reid."

"Bye."

Two months later the BAU was buzzing with activity. They had intentionally made sure that they were in the office the day that Reid was scheduled to return to work. So they waited, ready and excited to see him. He had flown to Vegas a week after his surgery so that he could heal with his mother in the desert air.

Some days she hadn't remembered who he was, but others they had sat and talked for hours. He had told her everything that had happened to him, and they had talked about the disease that he now knew he would suffer from through his life. Very little could be done to stop him from becoming his mother, but he could try. Dianna Reid had held her son's hand and told him to never stop fighting, because he was stronger than she was and he would make it.

All eyes were on him as he walked in. He was still very thin, and very pale, but he had regained a lot of his weight, and gotten some colour back. He walked into the BAU office and looked at the smiling faces around him.

He no longer looked so sick and the bruises on his face were gone. He looked pretty good.

"Look who's finally back!" said Morgan, standing up from his desk. He took Reid's hand and hugged the younger man, pulling him into a tight bear hug. Elle and JJ were only seconds behind; wrapping their arms around him after Morgan stepped back.

"Good to see you too," said Reid. Elle stepped back and smiled. JJ held on a little longer, her arms wrapped around his thin neck. When she pulled back, she kept her arm wrapped around his shoulders, as though she could protect him from all the evil in the world. He kept his arm wrapped around her waist, loving the feeling of protection and kindness from her.

"Sorry I took off for my recovery. I needed the space to get better. I thought home was a good start," said Reid.

"That's alright, Reid. You did what you needed to do, and we're just glad to see you," said Gideon.

"You're back just in time," said Hotch. "We gotta a case, in New York. You feeling up to that?"

"Definitely. Pass me the file and let's go!" Reid grabbed the coffee Morgan handed him and followed the team off, grabbing the file as he walked. Things were back to normal, and Reid couldn't be happier.

***

• Criminal Minds - home page
• New stories
• Reid/Morgan
• Reid/Hotch
• Reid/Gideon
• Hotch/Rossi
• Hotch/Morgan
• Hotch/Gideon
• Prentiss/JJ
• JJ/Garcia
• Prentiss/Garcia
• Morgan/Garcia
• JJ/Reid
• JJ/Morgan
• Prentiss/Reid
• Hotch/Prentiss
• Morgan/Prentiss
• Other pairings
• Gen stories