Chapter Text
He wanted her. He imagined what it would be like. He could see it.
It was all so… perfect.
She was perfect.
He bet that she tasted like frosting on a cupcake. Sweet. Soft. Creamy.
Yes. Oh god, yes!
He pumped his hand up and down faster. He could almost feel her lips on him. Around him. Her tongue licking up and down, intense sucking, saliva dripping.
Sweat trickled down his temples as he neared his orgasm.
God if I could just have a bite.
He saw himself dominating her face, shoving his penis down her throat. Then dripping his seed all over her face. He’d rub it around on those gorgeous cheeks and lick it off.
He threw his head back and groaned. He was so close.
Closer than he’d ever been. It was coming. His time. It wasn’t too far off now, before they all saw what he was capable of. And they’d all see that he was far more powerful than they’d ever thought he could be. They’d love him.
He would love him. And if he loved him, then it wouldn’t even matter about the others.
He had to do this for him. Because in the end, he was the only person who could ever fulfill his needs. Just the thought of him alone tipped him over the edge.
He let out a hushed moan as he finished. He grabbed a roll of paper towels from the shelf and wiped himself off. After zipping his pants, buckling his belt, righting his shirt and tie, a small touch to the frame of his glasses, he tucked the small clump of her hair back in his pocket, cleared his throat, and exited the storage closet.
He casually walked past room 327 and discreetly glanced inside. There she was. Holding the sleeping agent’s hand.
“Hey uh, M-Margaret?” He whispered, careful not to wake the patient up.
Margo glanced up, then gently stood and stepped towards Michael. Despite the strong scent of antiseptic, he could still smell the sweetness coming from her.
“Hey, I’m so sorry I had to run off like that,” she said in a hushed tone.
Michael shook his head in understanding. “Oh no, I totally understand. I just wanted to umm.. to see if you—“
Margo smiled, “Yes, the offer still stands. We’d love to have you.”
Michael smiled shyly. “Okay. Well, when do you think you’d be ready for me to move in?”
“The room is all cleared out, waitin’ for ya,” she grinned. “So whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh o-okay,” Michael said. “Great.”
“Do you need any help moving anything?” Margo asked.
Michael shook his head. “No, I should be fine. It’s just a couple bags anyway.”
Margo nodded. “Okay, well,” she checked her watch. “My shift ends at 10. If you want to meet back here around then, I can lead you to the place.”
“Sounds good!” Michael smiled.
A soft beep caught their attention, and they both turned to look at the bed where Spencer was still asleep.
“How is he?” Michael asked.
Margo gave a sad smile. “He’s… healing,” she breathed out tiredly. “We’re only in the beginning stages, so it feels like a long way to go… but we’ll get there.” She nodded as though convincing herself.
Michael watched the way she looked at Spencer—with so much care and concern.
“I can tell you really care about him,” he said.
Margo shrugged. “I care about all my patients… but I guess this case just hits extra hard.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her scrubs. “I just can’t imagine going through what he went through.”
Michael shifted his eyes back to Spencer’s sleeping form. The man looked like he had been through hell.
Something fluttered inside of him.
“It breaks my heart to see him cry. That look in his eyes,” Margo shook her head. “It’s just…” She trailed off, unable to find a word sufficient enough to capture the weight of it.
“It’s egregious,” Michael supplied, “what they did to him…”
Margo nodded. “Yeah, it really is.”
Michael tilted his head as he took in the bandages covering Spencer’s torso--his naked body--and all the lines hooked up to him.
Margo cleared her throat and turned back to Michael, “Umm, well, I should…”
Michael nodded, his flicking back to Margo. “Oh yeah. Of course!” He stepped back. “I’ll uh.. I’ll see you at 10.”
Margo smiled. “See you then.” She turned back to Spencer, and Michael watched her a minute more before quietly leaving.
She sat in the desk chair, bouncing her knee. It felt like she’d been waiting for hours. Ever since she saw the text last night, she wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Will told her to get some sleep, and they’d go in the morning. But she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to see him.
She huffed, glancing at the bathroom door again. Will was in there getting ready. Henry sat cross-legged on the bed watching some animal show on the TV.
JJ stood up, marched over to the bathroom door, and knocked. “Will, are you almost finished?”
Will cracked it open, toothbrush in his mouth. “I’ll be done in just a minute, babe.”
She turned away before she could say something sharp. Her hands threaded through her hair, as if she was trying to push the stress out of her head. Everything was too much—the TV, the sound of the running water, even the air. It had been weeks of what felt like literal agony, and she was getting tired of it all. If one more thing went wrong, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
Before she could implode, Will turned the light off in the bathroom, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Alright,” Will said, stepping out and looking at Henry. “You ready, bud? You got your shoes?”
Henry nodded and hopped off the bed. Will turned off the TV. “Alright, let’s go!”
JJ breathed in deeply, finally opening the hotel door.
She nearly hopped out of the car before Will had even put it in park. Will opened the back door to get Henry out of his car seat.
“No! I don’t wanna!” Henry shouted, twisting away from him.
JJ turned around, the sound cutting through her. “Will,” she said, impatience creeping into her tone.
Will looked between her and Henry. “Come on, Hen. Let’s go see Uncle Spence.”
“No!” Henry shoved Will’s hands away, his face crumpling. “I don’t wanna be at the hops-ital no more!”
JJ’s breath came out sharp. She moved to stand beside Will, crouching to meet Henry’s eyes. “Sweetie, Uncle Spence is awake now. He’ll want to see you.”
Henry shook his head stubbornly with a big frown on his face. “I wanna go home!”
JJ’s patience was already crumbling. She pressed her fingers to her temple, the irritation rising, like a pressure behind her ribs. She turned to Will. “Why don’t you just wait with him, and I’ll go in.”
Will frowned. “You want us to wait in the car?”
JJ raised her shoulders and looked at him with annoyance, “Well, take him to the park if he gets antsy. I need to be here, Will.”
“Jayje, we came here to be with you,” Will sighed.
“I know, but I can’t—“ she broke off, shaking her head. “I just need to be with him, okay?”
Will sighed, quiet but heavy. “For how long?”
“I don’t know Will! I just—“ she stopped before she said something she’d regret. “I’ll see you when I have a chance.”
Before he could answer, she turned and headed for the hospital entrance. But not before hearing Henry start to wail and call after her, “Mommy!”
Her steps faltered for half a second, guilt slicing through her, but she didn’t stop.
“Ma, what’re you doing here?”
“What do ya think I’m doing here? I came to see my baby,” Fran replied, giving him a playful pat on the arm before wrapping her arms around him in a hug.
“You didn’t have to come here, ya know,” Derek replied, hugging her back.
“Of course I did!” She said, swatting his arm lightly. “None of this nonsense! It’s not very often that I come out to see you. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“Well, of course I’m happy to see you, Ma, but—“
“—But nothing,” she cut him off, her eyes narrowing affectionately. “Don’t you argue with me, Derek.”
Morgan raised his hands up innocently. “Alright, alright. I ain’t arguing with you.”
Fran smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek before following him inside the hotel, with Hotch right behind them, carrying Fran’s luggage.
Rossi sat at a table flipping through a newspaper. He looked up when they entered.
“Fran,” Rossi greeted warmly. “It’s good to see you.”
Fran smiled softly but with a hint of sorrow, “Well, I could never pass up the chance to see my baby.” She squeezed Derek’s arm lightly.
Derek returned the soft smile. Though he looked distracted—wound tight, his mind was somewhere else entirely.
“And I so appreciate you, Agent Hotchner, for taking care of my flight,” Fran said, turning to him.
Hotch glanced up as though he’d been lost in thought. “Please, call me Hotch,” he said warmly. “And it was no trouble at all. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
Before Fran could respond to insist that he let her cook dinner for him and Jack, Hotch’s phone rang.
“It’s Drayton,” Hotch muttered to Rossi. “Excuse me,” he said and disappeared down the hall.
Fran sighed and shook her head. “That man needs about 6 months of rest and relaxation.”
Rossi chuckled into his coffee, “You’re telling me.”
Derek snorted, adding, “Like he’d ever let that happen. The man doesn’t even know what the word ‘relax’ means.”
Fran smiled faintly but turned back to Derek, studying him closely—the stiffness in his movements, the faint limp from his shin injury, the tired look in his eyes.
“You don’t look much better, baby,” she said gently. “When’s the last time you got a decent night’s sleep?”
Derek rolled his shoulders. “I’m fine, Ma. Don’t worry about me.”
Fran gave a knowing hum. “That’s what you always say.”
“I mean it,” he said, his voice firm. “I just need to get back to the hospital soon. Reid might wake up again today.”
Fran nodded, her expression softening. “Then we’ll go see him together,” she said simply.
Derek sighed, shaking his head with a tiny, helpless smile. “You never take no for an answer, do you?”
Fran reached out and cupped his cheek. “Not when it comes to my kids.”
“Okay, ready? And big cough for me,” Kendra said as she and Nancy pulled the tube out.
“Just a bit of suction, honey,” Nancy said, immediately following the extubation with the suction stick.
Reid’s mouth felt foreign, frothy, and dry. He gagged as the buildup of mucus and saliva broke free from his throat and mouth. His chest hurt when he breathed.
“That’s right, just get it all out,” Nancy said. She had a kind, motherly manner. Her gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore glasses with a thin metal frame.
Opposite her was Kendra. She was young but carried a calm presence, the kind that said she had seen a lot, probably too much. She wore maroon colored scrubs that complemented her dark skin.
Spencer coughed again, blinking against the light that felt too sharp. Everything felt too close, but also too far away—the beeping, the cold air on his skin, the weight of the blanket over his legs that didn’t seem to move when he thought about moving them.
“Can I come in?” JJ's voice came from the doorway, bright but trembling.
Nancy smiled. “Hey, JJ. Look who’s up!”
JJ smiled widely and stepped in, nearly ran, to Spencer’s side. She appeared so abruptly that the movement startled Spencer. He flinched when she appeared at his bedside before he could stop himself.
Then she was crying, and it confused him… or maybe it didn’t. Maybe he was crying too. His chest hurt, his eyes burned, and he didn’t even know what for.
“Hi, Spence,” JJ whispered.
Spencer just stared at her. His mind was sluggish. Her face came into focus in pieces—the scabbed cuts, the purple beneath her eyes. Something in his chest cracked open at the sight, and he felt like it was his fault.
“You can talk now, sweetie,” Nancy said softly. “Can you say hi?”
“H-hi,” his voice was hoarse, and it didn’t sound like Spencer at all. “Water?”
Nancy looked to Kendra and nodded. “We’ll get you a small cup. Start slow, okay?”
He nodded. His throat burned, and he could’ve drunk the water from the vase of flowers.
When Kendra brought the paper cup, he tried not to rush, but his hands shook. The water was the best thing he’d ever tasted—clean. He wanted twenty more.
JJ sniffled, watching him. He could feel her eye on him, studying, memorizing. It was strange being looked at like that. Like she still wasn’t sure he was real.
She placed a hand on the bed. “Spence, I missed you so much,” her voice broke. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. They-they said you were dead and—“
He blinked, trying to process the words, but they just seemed to bounce off his brain. Dead? Maybe he had been. It would explain the strange, heavy stillness inside of him.
“I’m just so happy to see you awake.” She reached out and grabbed his hand.
Spencer tensed slightly. “JJ,” he murmured, still struggling to place everything. “I’m… sorry.” The word came out cracked and thin. He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for—only that it felt necessary.
JJ shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re awake, and it’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
Spencer’s eyes drifted to the blanket covering his legs. He couldn’t tell what hurt and what didn’t. Couldn’t tell what was real and what was memory. “Will it?” he whispered.
JJ leaned in, gripping his hand tighter. “It will,” she said with certainty. “I know you, Spence. You are resilient.”
He wanted to believe her. He wanted to feel like himself again, to feel that same certainty in his own mind. But everything felt broken, as though all the broken pieces of himself had reassembled wrong.
He looked at her again, something in his eyes still looked lost. He noticed the tension in her shoulders and face. “Are you okay?”
JJ’s breath hitched, and she nodded. But her eyes said otherwise.
Hotch stepped into the quiet hallway, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hotchner.”
“Agent Hotchner,” Drayton’s voice was brisk. “I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
“Not at all,” Hotch replied, glancing back at the dining area where he could still hear faint chatter from Fran and Rossi. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to check in,” she said. “I heard through hospital liaison channels that Dr. Reid has regained consciousness. Is that accurate?”
Hotch hesitated a beat before answering. “It is. Though I’d like to know who your liaison is. That information should not have reached outside the hospital.”
Drayton hesitated. “I agree. My guess is someone from the hospital staff mentioned it to an officer on-site, and it made its way through the usual channels. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I know you wanted time before the circus started.”
Hotch sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “He’s conscious, but still in critical care. I don’t want anyone pressuring him about testimony or statements until he’s cleared medically.”
“Understood,” Drayton assured him. “For now, we’re keeping his name off any filings and motions that could draw press attention. But the defense will know soon enough that he’s awake.”
Hotch’s voice cooled. “Let them. They won’t get near him until I say so.”
There was a short pause on her end before she continued. “That brings me to my other reasons for calling. Have you had a chance to speak with Morgan and Jareau about their statements?”
“Yes,” Hotch replied. “They still need time to recover, but they will cooperate—but I want to ensure it will be on their terms.”
“That’s fair,” she said. “You can tell them there’s been some movement on the case. The judge has denied the defense’s motion to sever the brothers’ trials. They acted together — they’ll be tried together.”
She took a breath. “It’s going to be one of the most closely watched trials this county’s ever seen.”
Hotch leaned against the wall, glancing out toward the table where Rossi, Morgan, and Fran were still sitting. “That’s not a surprise,” he murmured. “The Bureau’s already fielding calls from reporters.”
“I can imagine. We’ll be moving toward the preliminary hearing soon. Jury selection won’t happen for months, but I’ll need their preparation underway in the next few weeks.”
“Understood,” Hotch nodded. “Send me the updated timeline, and I’ll make sure they are ready when you need them.”
“I’ll do that,” Drayton said. “Aaron, for what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing keeping them shielded for now. None of them should have to relive it any sooner than necessary.”
Hotch’s voice dropped. “They already relive it every day.”
“Then I’ll do my part to make sure this case gets them justice,” Drayton says with determination.
As much as he wanted to catch up with JJ and chat, he just couldn’t stay awake. It was extremely exhausting to be up even for short stretches. His eyelids drooped as JJ chattered on with words he could hardly take in.
She had tried to coax him into taking another sip of water, but he was already half-asleep. She sighed, leaning back in her chair, studying his face. It was easier to look at him now that she knew he would wake up again. A soft knock sounded at the door.
She looked up to see Hotch, followed by Rossi, Derek, and Fran.
JJ smiled faintly. “Hey. You guys just missed him—he just fell asleep again.”
Hotch glanced at Reid. “Good. He needs the rest.”
Rossi moved to the other side of the bed, studying the lines of tubing and the soft rise and fall of Reid’s chest. “Good to see he's off the vent. He looks better than the last time we saw him,” he said.
Fran’s hands went to her chest, her forehead wrinkled with sympathy. “Oh, baby,” she murmured, as she took in the sight of the young man lying amidst the wires and tubes. It had been a while since she had last seen Reid, but she could never forget when she first met the young, lanky, awkward doctor. “He’s just a boy…”
“He’s tough,” Derek said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the concern that settled deep within him.
“I know he is,” Fran replied. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need his family right now.”
Derek looked at her. “And we’re right here.”
Hotch stepped closer to the bed, his eyes cataloging every little change in Reid’s wounds. “Drayton called,” he said quietly. “She’s confirmed the brothers will be tried together. No separation.”
Rossi gave a nod. “Good. Less chance for them to slip past accountability.”
Fran frowned, glancing between them. “I hope that means this’ll be over soon.”
Hotch sighed. “Eventually. But there’s still a long road ahead.”
JJ leaned forward and clutched Reid’s hand again, like it was the only thing that could keep her grounded. It felt like a storm was brewing inside her gut. Her knee bounced rapidly.
Rossi exchanged a quiet glance with Hotch, both of them seeing the tension written all over her.
Rossi cleared his throat. “Are Will and Henry here?”
JJ looked up. “Umm... Henry didn’t want to come in.”
Fran’s brow creased with understanding. “Poor thing,” she murmured. “Hospitals can be scary for little ones. Especially after everything that’s happened.”
JJ nodded numbly, only partially present as she continued to stare at Spencer.
Reid began to stir slightly, a faint sound catching in his throat. JJ was on her feet in an instant, leaning forward. “Spence? Hey, you’re awake again.”
His eyelids fluttered, his pupils slow to focus.
JJ squeezed onto the hand she was still holding. “Hey, there you are,” she said. “You scared us, you know that? I’ve been talking your ear off, but it’s okay. I just—“
Her words were tumbling out one after the other, barely allowing him time to breathe. She brushed his hair off his forehead, tears were brimming in her eyes again.
“Hey,” he rasped.
JJ quickly grabbed his little cup of water. “Here, sip this. Slowly, remember?” She steadied it against his lips, hovering so close he could feel her breath.
He took a small sip but turned his face away after a moment, feeling overwhelmed.
Derek hobbled closer, standing a little behind JJ’s chair. “Hey, JJ… maybe let him rest a sec.”
JJ didn’t move. “He is resting. He just woke up, he needs to know we’re here.”
“He knows, JJ,” Hotch spoke up gently. “He just needs a moment to breathe.”
Reid turned his head toward the familiar voice, blinking until Hotch came into view. Then he saw Rossi, and Morgan—and someone else.
“Hey, kid,” Morgan spoke softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You remember my mom?”
Reid’s gaze flicked toward Fran. She smiled brightly. “Hi, sweetheart,” she said. “It’s good to see you again.”
Reid blinked several times, like he was trying to clear his vision. He had a lost look on his face, not quite sure if he was where he really was.
Morgan glanced at Hotch, a wordless exchange.
Hotch cleared his throat, turning to Fran and Rossi, “Why don’t we give them some space?”
Fran nodded, “Certainly.”
Morgan moved into the chair by JJ.
“Hey, kid. You still with us?” he asked as he got settled.
Reid seemed to snap out of a daze and looked at JJ and Morgan. His brow furrowed, “Where’d everyone else go?”
JJ gripped onto Reid’s arm again, “They just went for a little walk. They’ll come back later.”
Reid leaned back into the pillow. He seemed to still be processing what JJ had said.
After glancing at JJ’s grip on his arm, he lifted his eyes to meet JJ and Morgan’s gaze. “Did they…”
“They got ‘em,” Morgan started. “Nikki’s dead and her brothers are in jail.”
“It’s just—“ JJ started to say, but Morgan shot her a look to stop her.
“Just what?” Reid asked. He was too tired to make a facial expression.
JJ and Morgan looked at each other. “He’s going to find out eventually, Derek,” JJ said quietly.
Morgan sighed. “They… David got away. They’re still looking for him,” Morgan watched Reid carefully as he spoke.
Reid let it sink in.
He hadn’t even thought about him. Hadn’t thought of his name. But at the mention of him, it brought back everything.
His nose filled with the stench of his filth, he could feel and taste it. His body trembled. He could feel his lower body tear apart from the force of David thrusting into him. He could see his intense, maniacal eyes staring into his soul, the way he enjoyed seeing Reid in pain. The taunts and laughter from his siblings. Utter humiliation.
Reid turned his head to the side and dry heaved. He had nothing to throw up, he couldn’t sit up, and yet he could feel the sludge in his mouth. He felt like he was suffocating.
Morgan and JJ scrambled to help, JJ pressing the call button and Morgan tilting the bed upright.
“No. No!” Reid cried in between gagging. “I need to wash it out—WASH IT OUT!” He screamed, swiping at his face.
JJ stood frozen, watching him with wide eyes. Morgan leaned in, grabbing Reid’s hands to stop him from hurting himself. “Hey, hey,” he said calmly. “Spencer. Look at me.”
Tears streamed down Reid’s face, he was gasping for air, still heaving and whimpering.
“Please! Can I just have… something to c-clean myself off?” He cried, looking at someone who wasn’t there.
Morgan tried again, “Reid, it’s me, Morgan. You’re okay. I’ve got you, okay?”
The heart monitor started ringing.
“Please! Get it off! Get it off me!” Reid cried in devastation.
“Reid, you’re clean. There’s nothing on you,” Morgan replied, unsure of what Reid was reliving.
Nurses finally rushed in, immediately getting to work and trying to talk to Reid.
“Spencer?” One of the older nurses called. “Can you take some deep breaths for me, honey?”
Morgan and JJ found themselves standing in the hallway, a bit shellshocked and not fully processing what had happened.
“We… we scared him,” JJ looked at Morgan with tears in her eyes.
Morgan glanced back at Reid’s room, where the door was closed. He turned back to JJ and just looked at her. He had no words to say. His chest hurt, and all of this was making him so tired.