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Emily can’t help but hear what the locals say about Reid. The comments are worse, and more numerous, than she’s heard in a while. She knows Reid is hearing them too, but he seems to be remarkably good at ignoring it.
(She doesn’t want to think about why it seems to be an ingrained skill.)
Most of the comments drop off after a while, but a few of the LEOs--the type who only even
law enforcement for the power over others it gave them--keep it up throughout the case, like Reid isn’t making most of the breakthroughs.
“Dr. Reid!” The leader of the remaining commenter group calls out. Emily doesn’t think he knows she can hear him. “How much work did you put in for those Ph.Ds? What did you have to do to get placed here?”
Oh, dear god.
They’re lucky Morgan or Hotch aren’t here.
“I studied and passed my exams,” Reid says calmly. She can see him in her mind, stirring too much sugar in his nth cup of coffee this week.
“Sure you did.” Emily doesn’t get a chance to intervene, not that Reid seems to need it.
“Prentiss here.”
“We’ve got a lead in the field. How’s Reid doing?” So Hotch has noticed too.
It doesn’t help that this is their third back-to-back case--Emily’s slept in her own bed once in the past four weeks. They’re all more on edge than they would normally be, and Reid is no exception.
Especially when he hardly remembers to sleep in the first place, his mind just always a little too far left of the ‘on’ switch to ever let him rest properly.
If Reid snaps, and lashes back at the LEOs like she knows he probably wants to, it won’t end well.
They’re on tenterhooks with this department as it is.
“I hate to do this, but we need you in the field. Make sure you see Reid eating before you leave?”
“Are you sure? You know how the LEOs have been on this case.”
“Yes. Morgan’s driving back now, he’ll be there in about half an hour, weather permitting. Reid can handle himself. He’s learned, over the years.” Emily knows he can, but she’s worried.
Reid was injured on the first of these cases. He’s not cleared to be anywhere but the station yet. He was only cleared to come them on the last case because they were driving, not flying.
Hotch sighs over the phone. Emily doesn’t need to see his face to know what expression he’s wearing.
“Just… leave him with a sandwich and iced coffee and he won’t need to leave the conference room.” Emily agrees. The LEOs haven’t been coming into their conference room since they set up.
She grabs a few shitty vending machine sandwiches and one of those fancy glass bottles of iced coffee.
“Hey, Reid.” She sets the bottle down with a light clink. “I got dinner and drinks.” She sits in the chair next to him gingerly--she took a shot to the stomach through her vest on the last case and is bruised up herself.
“Thanks.” He mutters, still buried in his work. Emily lays a careful hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t want to startle him into moving.
“Hotch wants me to go look at the scene.”
“Yes, and?” Emily can tell he’s not trying to be difficult.
“You’ll be here alone.” That gets his attention. Spencer finally looks over at her.
“I’m a grown man, Prentiss.”
“You’re hurt and I don’t like the way the LEOs have been talking about you.” She says quickly. “And you know what time of year it is.” He bites his lip.
“I do.” It’s a quiet admission. “I’ll be fine, Emily. I’ve dealt with it before.”
It’s only been two years since Hankel, and she trusts him but anniversaries make all the memories worse.
Something she knows all too well. Something she’s seen in him too many times to think he’ll perfectly fine on his own.
“I would stay until Morgan gets here--” Emily doesn’t miss the way he perks up at Morgan’s name--“but Hotch wants me now.”
“You really think they’ll try something?” She pauses. Emily wants to tell him no.
She wants to say he’ll be fine in here until Morgan comes.
She wants to tell him he’ll be safe.
She can’t.
“I hope they don’t, but please, stay in here until Morgan comes. You’re already hurt enough.” Spencer nods, eyeing the sandwiches she’s sliding over to him. “We just want you safe, wonder boy.”
“We’re dating, you know.” He whispers. “Derek and I.” Emily smiles, soft but true.
“I didn’t, actually. I figured you had a crush, though. When did that start?” He takes a bite before answering.
“Two months and three days ago.”
“That’s great, Spencer! Are you going to tell the rest of the team?” She knows he’s telling her because Spencer had caught her kissing another woman at her favorite club. Emily had never expected to see Spencer there--it was known for loud music and bright lights, both things he tends to avoid.
“I don’t know. Thanks for the sandwiches, Emily. I’ll be fine.” He gives her that little half-smile of his.
Emily glares at the LEOs who had been mocking Reid on the way out.
(if she could turn back time, she would do more than glare.)
Derek refrains from turning on his lights and sirens, no matter how much he wants to.
They’ve been trying not to leave
alone at the station.
Spencer will be fine. He’ll have forgotten he was even alone, caught up in his work. Derek being a few minutes (okay, an hour) later than planned wouldn’t matter.
Spencer knows better than to willingly place himself in a hostile environment if he can avoid it.
Unsub negotiations notwithstanding.
“Morgan.” He flips open his phone without looking at it.
“How’s my favorite couple doing?” Garcia coos.
“I’m doing just fine, baby girl, but I’ll have to wait to ask pretty boy.”
“You’re not at the station yet? I thought you were, Spencer’s not picking up his phone.”
“You know how he gets, probably just caught up in the map.” Derek soothes, despite the worry quickly forming in his own stomach. “I’ll call you, okay? When I get there, so you can talk to him then.”
Sure, it’s unusual for Spencer to answer their calls, but he’s been really focused on this case. Derek knows he doesn’t like being limited to the station, either.
“He could have fallen asleep, too. He’s hardly been sleeping lately.” Spencer has fallen asleep at stations before, but only very rarely.
“Oh, of course!” Penelope is much cheerier now. “Take care of my boy genius, knight in shining armor.”
“You know I will, gorgeous.” Derek chuckles despite the knot in his stomach. When the rain--a downpour, really--lets up, he accelerates as much as he dares.
He’ll be at the station in no time.
For the first ten minutes, it’s easy to convince himself that Spencer’s just gone to the bathroom or out to the little coffee shop down the road.
It’s harder when he’s still not answering texts or calls. Derek has been subtly looking around the station for him, but if Spencer’s really just caught in a line he doesn’t want to give the officers a reason to think something’s wrong with the team.
Finally, Derek gives in and texts Hotch to let him know that Spencer’s still not here, and he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Spencer always answers Hotch’s texts and calls, especially on a case. Hotch hasn’t gotten any response either.
“Hey, baby girl. Can you track Spence’s phone for me?” Derek has been avoiding calling her--he doesn’t want to worry her, and he doesn’t want to admit to himself that Spencer is missing--but it’s been nearly an hour since she called him in the car.
At least two since Prentiss left the station.
The sandwiches she’d left Spencer are sitting on the table in the conference room when Derek finally steps in. One is only half-eaten.
Something happened right after Prentiss left.
“Der, his phone is at the station.”
“Where? I haven’t seen him at all.”
“Let me check the blueprints.” A pause, then: “A closet, the far-right hallway. I’ll walk you there.” Derek follows her guidance.
Every officer he passes seems to be laughing. He picks out the ones who have been bothering Spencer--and all of them, really, except for Hotch and Rossi--and they are actually laughing, not having taken notice of him.
“And… there!” Derek opens the door, prepared to find Spencer bruised, tied up, maybe a little bloody.
When he sees the inside of the closet, he just stares.
“Is he okay?” Garcia is fretting over the phone.
“He’s-he’s not here.” Derek tells her, still staring at the phone. Spencer’s phone. The screen is cracked, something Spencer is too careful, as clumsy as he is, to ever allow. He quickly takes a few pictures of the inside of the closet.
“It’s just his phone. He’s gone, baby girl.” Derek, knowing he’s being watched, fights to keep his tone even as he as can.
“I’m going to call Hotch. Do you want to stay on the line?” Back in the conference room, he walks over to the map as Garcia patches Hotch in.
“He’s gone, Hotch. His phone screen is cracked, and it was in the closet.”
“Do you think it was an officer?”
“I don’t know.” Derek pulls the phone away from his ear and sends Garcia the pictures. “I sent Garcia a few pictures. I think something happened not long after Prentiss left. His sandwich and coffee are still here.”
“Keep looking for him there, and keep working the case. This could be related to the unsub.” Derek agrees, reluctantly, and hangs up on Hotch.
“He’s keeping you on the case?”
“We’ll find him, baby girl. And Hotch is right.” Derek flips through Spencer’s work, looking over his geographical profile. “If it was an officer, one of them might say something. I’m as worried as a first-time mother, you know that. But they probably didn’t move him too far. We’ll be able to do more when the others get back.”
He ignores the officers. They’re not bold enough to say anything directly to him, not the way they do with Spencer and JJ.
The team has finally settled in for a late dinner. Prentiss and Rossi had taken one side of town, Hotch and JJ the other, looking for Spencer. Derek had kept Garcia on the line and they’d finished the geographical profile and checked all the cameras around town.
In the downpour, the camera footage had been hazy, and none of them could afford to get soaking wet--this had already been a long case, and they were already rewearing clothes.
None of them had found anything.
“We’ll go out and look more in the morning,” Hotch says. “Hopefully the rain will have let up.” They bounce around profile ideas, alternating between their unsub and who took Spencer.
Derek is hanging up on Garcia and packing away the computer when the door to their conference room opens.
And there’s Spencer, soaking wet.
“Oh, god, Spence!” JJ gasps. Derek’s already moving, wrapping his jacket around his shivering boyfriend and carefully probing at his head.
“What happened, Reid?” Hotch asks, moving to help Derek settle Spencer on the couch. Spencer’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s not tracking movement well. Derek can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach as he realizes what’s going on.
Coming away with blood on his fingers only confirms it.
“Hotch.” Derek raises his hand. “He needs a hospital. He’s concussed, at the very least.”
“Is he hurt anywhere else?” Rossi approaches, looking over Spencer carefully. Emily and JJ slip out to bring one of the cars upfront.
Derek gently slides his hands down Spencer’s shoulders and arms. Spencer flinches--if Derek hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have seen it.
“Spencer, pretty boy.” Derek starts, making sure he has Spencer’s attention, “Can you do yes/no questions?” Spencer taps his hand twice for yes.
“Okay, good. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Two taps. “Torso?” Two taps. Derek runs through body areas, then specific parts, waiting a moment between questions.
“Alright, Spence. Do you mind if I carry you?” Derek is surprised when that gets two taps. Carefully, he slides an arm under Spencer’s knees, the other settling just below his shoulders. Spencer is aware enough to try and wrap an arm around Derek’s neck. He hisses and pulls it back, curling inward.
“Hey, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” Derek soothes. Hotch and Rossi go ahead of them, clearing the path.
There aren’t many officers anyway, but it’s good not to have them getting in the way.
The car ride is difficult. Spencer can hardly sit up on his own, but he’s too tall to stretch out on the backseat.
In the end, Spencer just curls up on Derek’s lap while Emily drives as fast as she can and Hotch calls ahead to the hospital.
Spencer absolutely refuses to let go of Derek when they finish his scans. It annoys the doctors and nurses, but since it keeps Spencer calm and Derek stays mostly out of the way, they allow it.
Derek has to fight to keep himself from getting thrown out when he sees the bruising and blood on Spencer’s torso and arms.
“Sir, why don’t you go update your family?” A nurse says, when Spencer is settling into sleep.
Derek squeezes Spencer’s free hand gently, kisses him on the forehead. Spencer taps twice, softly.
“You want me to go update everyone?” Derek asks. Spencer taps twice again. Derek pulls away reluctantly. Spencer hates hospitals; Derek doesn’t want to leave him if he doesn’t have to.
“Derek, how is he?” JJ stands up. “Can we see him?”
“He just got to sleep.” Derek answers. “It’s bad.”
“How bad?” Rossi asks.
“Concussion, mild TBI bordering on moderate. They’re taking him for another scan tomorrow. His left arm is broken in two places, his right ankle is badly sprained, and his ribs and right wrist have been reinjured. There are bruises forming all over his body. He was mildly hypothermic, but that’s mostly taken care of now.
“Shit, kid.” Prentiss breathes out. “He just can’t catch a break, can he?”
“I’m staying with him tonight,” Derek says. He knows Spencer wants to keep them secret, that he wants to avoid teasing until their relationship isn’t so new, but right now he’s not all that worried about hiding it from them. “If he’s up for talking in the morning, I’ll see if he’ll tell me who did this. I don’t want him signing with his arms the way they are.”
“Keep us updated, Morgan.” Hotch gives him a searching look, and Derek knows he suspects something. “Let him know we’re all right here if he wants anything.”
“I will.” Derek hurries back to Spencer’s room.
“He’s settled for the night.” The nurse he left in Spencer’s room is waiting outside the door. “You can stay with him, but be careful.” Derek only has the energy to nod.
When he takes Spencer’s hand again, Spencer blinks up at him, tugging his hand lightly. Derek smiles at him, soft.
“I don’t wanna hurt you, pretty boy.” It’s a token protest, and they both know it.
The bed is definitely not designed for two people. Still, Derek, mindful of Spencer’s IV, arranges them carefully so Spencer is lying on top of him, back to chest. Spencer rolls onto his right side and tucks his head into Derek’s neck.
Derek doesn’t fall asleep until long after Spencer’s eyes have closed and his breathing has evened out.
Spencer wakes up achy and with a warm body underneath him. There’s a calloused hand skimming his side gently.
“Awake now, baby?” Derek’s voice is low in his ear, and Spencer feels his muscles relax. He hums a little, to acknowledge that he heard Derek, and shifts a little so he can look at him.
“The team’s stopping by later. The doctor wants to check your head again first. How are you feeling?” Spencer clears his throat and swallows a couple of times before answering.
“Achy. My arm hurts and I don’t want to open my eyes too much.” He mumbles.
“Okay, baby boy. I’m going to press the call button to let the nurse know you’re awake.” Spencer nods. Talking feels like too much energy right now.
“Good morning, Mr. Morgan, Dr. Reid.” The nurse greets them. Spencer thinks she’s treated him before, but he’s not sure. “I’m going to take your vitals and then we’ll be moving you.”
Spencer is only half-awake throughout the whole thing, but she works fast and it’s not long before they kick Derek out of his bed and wheel him down for another MRI and a CAT scan. When he’s wheeled back into his room, Derek has showered and changed into a set of scrubs.
“You can go back to sleep now, Spencer.” Derek stays in the chair this time. “I’ll wake you when they have the results.” Spencer dozes off, and it doesn’t feel like it’s been too long before Derek is waking him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“The mild swelling in his brain has gone down, which is a very good sign.” A doctor is saying. “With his other injuries, and the reinjuries, we’d like to keep him here for at least tomorrow. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, he’s still got bruises forming. We’ll reassess then. You’re just fine to have more visitors, though.” She looks directly at Spencer now.
“Trust me, he’ll have plenty.” Derek chuckles. “Is there anything he’s restricted from eating?”
“No, nothing in particular for now. Not unless the bruising on his neck gets significantly worse than it appears now.”
“Thank you.” Derek chats with the doctor for a few more minutes, but Spencer closes his eyes again.
“Hey, pretty boy.” Spencer taps Derek’s hand to show he’s listening. “Do you want the team to come up now, or do you want me to send them away?” He taps twice, then grabs Derek’s hand and tugs.
“Oh, you want me to lay with you again? Do you want to tell the team, baby?” There’s a laugh in Derek’s voice, but concern as well. Spencer nods.
“I told Emily. Yesterday.”
“That’s perfectly alright, Spencer.” Derek says. “I think Hotch suspects, too.”
Derek settles behind him again, so Spencer curls into his body right as the team is shown in.
“Spence!” JJ and Emily take the chairs next to the bed, and Hotch and Rossi stand at the foot.
“Morgan, I hope we’re not going to need to have a talk.” Hotch says, faux-stern. Derek laughs behind him, and Spencer can feel his face flush under the bruises.
“How long?” JJ asks, and even as Derek’s saying the answer, Spencer finds himself signing it with his right hand.
“Two months, four days, seven hours, and thirty-three minutes.”
“Spencer added nineteen seconds.” Emily laughs gently.
“Of course he did. He’s brilliant, you know?” Derek kisses him on the forehead and Spencer can feel his grin. “He’s clear of swelling in his brain, but with his other injuries and the bruises that are still forming, they’d like to keep him until at least tomorrow.”
“How are his ribs?” Rossi asks.
“None of them broke, thankfully. One of them cracked in a different spot, but with a little rest he should be fine.” Derek answers. Spencer hadn’t even known that.
But then, he’d been out of it all last night and most of today.
“Before we have to go…” JJ pulls out her phone.
“JJ! How’s my boy genius doing?”
“He’s bruised up, got a couple breaks and sprains, but he’s gonna be okay, baby girl.” Derek answers. Spencer knows he’s downplaying; Penelope will fly out if she finds out how badly he’s really hurt.
He’s probably not going to be cleared to fly for a while.
“We’ll have to return to the station shortly, but one of us will drop in later with lunch and a change of clothes for both of you.” Hotch says. The team stays and chats for a few minutes longer before each giving Spencer a careful hug.
Hotch stays behind.
“Reid.” He sits in the chair on their left. “You know you’re going to have to tell us what happened.” Spencer nods. He goes to sign with his right hand again, but when he winces Derek covers his hand gently.
“This might not be the best time, Hotch.” He says. Spencer rolls his eyes and gestures to the glass of water on the table. He takes a few sips. Signing might hurt, but even with a bruised neck, he can talk.
“There wasn’t any damage to my vocal cords.” He says. Hotch raises an eyebrow at that.
“You’re pretty bruised up, there, and your voice certainly sounds rough. You don’t have to tell us now.”
“No, might as well get it out of the way.” Hotch steps out of the room for a moment to let the team know the new plan. When he returns, recorder in hand, Spencer starts recounting the incident.
“They--four of the local officers--grabbed me ten minutes after Prentiss left.” Spencer feels Derek grip him tightly. “The biggest two of them shoved me out of the conference room, and dragged me into a closet.”
“Garcia tracked your phone to a closet when I got there, about an hour and a half after Prentiss would have left.” Derek says, just to add it to the record.
“They started talking about taking me outside and letting me walk back in the rain. They took me out to the cars and threw me in the trunk. One of them, about Emily’s height, pistol-whipped me; that’s where the concussion comes from. I don’t the car ride helped anything, though.”
“And what happened when they dumped you?” Hotch asks, gently.
“I was already dazed and confused then. I was pulled out of the trunk by my neck and right ankle. They kicked me around a little. One of them, maybe Rossi’s height and with a build similar to mine, jumped on my arm. When it broke the first time, he laughed. The second time it snapped, I screamed. I think it scared them, or maybe they thought someone would have heard me.”
“So they left after that?”
“Yes. They headed back the way we’d come.”
“It was downpouring all day yesterday.” Spencer can tell Derek is barely restraining his anger.
“I was too out of it to move for about half an hour.”
“You usually know exact times,” Hotch notes. Spencer nods.
“It wasn’t until I started walking that I realized I didn’t have my phone. I collapsed three times on the walk back, completely blacking out. I don’t know long how any of those lasted.” Derek helps him sip at his water.
“When I got to the station, I was barely aware of anything.” Spencer finishes.
He doesn’t notice how his breathing and heart rate have picked up.
He doesn’t hear Hotch and Derek trying to calm him down.
He doesn’t realize he’s started signing, shakily, everything that he can remember: their heights, builds, hair color.
He doesn’t realize that Hotch is translating everything he’s signing for the record.
“-encer. Spencer!” Derek takes his right hand and runs his fingers across the back. “Hey, pretty boy, breathe for me, okay? You told us everything.”
“Can you look at me, Spencer?” Hotch asks. Spencer opens his eyes.
He hadn’t known he’d closed them.
Hotch is still holding the recorder in one hand.
“There we go.” Hotch sighs, leaning back. “I’ll be talking to the captain.”
Spencer leans further back into Derek, suddenly exhausted.
“Go back to sleep, pretty boy.” Derek runs a hand through his hair, avoiding the bandages. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“I’ll call Garcia on my way out, have her get pictures matching Reid’s descriptions.” He hears Hotch tell Derek. “We’ll call or text you with updates on both cases, and you might be able to help over the phone.” Spencer slowly drifts off into a deep sleep after Hotch leaves.
Whatever Derek had expected Spencer to say had happened, it wasn’t that.
Maybe that two of the officers had jumped him when he’d been grabbing something, or that he’d stepped out of the precinct and something had happened.
No, they’d attacked him right in the middle of the precinct.
Derek runs a hand over his head.
Why is it always Spencer?
His bruises are getting darker by the minute; his neck looks worse than it did earlier. A nurse knocks on the door.
“Oh, has he been sleeping long?” He asks softly, taking Spencer’s vitals as gently as he can.
“No. Our team, our family, just left.” The nurse hums.
“The doctor will be in shortly to double-check a few things. Everything looks good, right now. I’ll bring by an ice pack for his neck shortly.” He slips out as quickly as he’d come in.
“Hey, Morgan.” Prentiss wakes him up. “I brought lunch.” Derek is quick to change and eat.
“What did he say happened? Hotch hasn’t told any of us.” Derek glances at Spencer, still asleep, and recounts the basics for her.
“If I’d told Hotch I was staying until you got there…”
“Prentiss, don’t. Don’t do that to yourself. As much as I hate to think about it, I don’t think it was avoidable. Spencer wasn’t cleared for fieldwork, and we’re usually all on takedowns.”
“He would have been left there alone eventually.”
“Yeah, I think so. We wouldn’t have had a choice. It was either be at the precinct alone or be at the hotel alone.”
They talk until a new nurse comes in to take Spencer’s vitals again.
“I’ll text you the minute he wakes up.” Derek promises.
That ends up being much, much later than expected.
Derek’s not concerned when Spencer sleeps through the afternoon; the past couple months have been rough. It’s probably the most sleep either of them has gotten lately.
But then Spencer doesn’t wake up in the morning.
They take him back for more scans, and call in another doctor to look at them.
“It’s not his brain.” Dr. Rost, a neurosurgeon they asked to consult, tells him. “Dr. Reid’s scans are coming back just fine. He may just need the rest.”
Derek fights the urge to tell him that sleeping completely still like this, not twitching or moving at all, is not Spencer at all.
Spencer’s hurt, everywhere. Of course he’s not going to move in his sleep. Of course he’s going to sleep more.
(It doesn’t make it any less terrifying when the doctor tells him to be prepared for Spencer to slip into a coma.)
“Morgan, go to the hotel and shower.” Hotch orders, finally. “Get some sleep in a bed, not the chair. Reid is going to be fine.” Derek leaves Hotch--still the only other one who knows the full story--sitting at Spencer’s bedside. He goes and gets lunch, almost ordering Spencer’s favorite for him out of habit before remembering he won’t be able to eat it right now.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open, already halfway through typing Hotch’s number when he realizes that’s a bad idea. Hotch will just hang up on him. Derek takes a deep breath and slides the phone back into his pocket.
He can do this. Hotch will call if there’s any change.
Derek calls Penelope on the way back to the hotel.
“What’s going on with boy wonder, lovebug?” She asks. “I haven’t had any updates!”
“Baby girl, they’ve told me…”
“Told you what? Did something else happen? Oh, god, what happened?” Penelope has conjured up the worst possible scenario already.
“The doctor told me to be prepared for Spencer to fall into a coma.” He forces the words out. “His brain is fine, no swelling at all anymore, but baby girl… I don’t know. He hasn’t woken up since the team left yesterday.”
“I’m flying out.” She says. “I’m not leaving you alone out there, hot stuff.”
“No, Penelope, don’t. They’re already down two of us on this case.”
“But…”
“Penelope, if he gets worse we will have you out here in a minute. But he’s holding steady right now. We’re going to be able to transport him back to Virginia when the case is over.”
“He’s going to be okay.” She says firmly. “He’s going to wake up and you’re going to bring him back.”
“Yeah, baby girl, I’ll bring him home.” Derek promises.
Derek showers and falls into bed, but he can’t sleep.
He can’t stop thinking about Spencer, bruised and beaten in that bed, not waking up for seemingly no reason.
He lays there, staring at the ceiling, until his phone buzzes.
Hotch, telling him to come back to the hospital immediately.
Derek has his shoes on before Hotch picks up the phone.
“What’s going on, Hotch?”
“Nothing bad, I promise. They want to talk to me, I’ve got to go. I’ll call when they give me more news.”
Nothing bad? Nothing bad ?
Derek really wishes he’d taken the SUV instead of walking, now.
In the half-hour it takes Derek to walk back to the hospital, he texts Hotch thirty-eight times.
Hotch doesn’t any answer of them.
Derek half-jogs through the hospital, bursting into Spencer’s room to find Hotch sitting alone.
“Hotch, what happened?”
“Morgan--”
“Where is he? Did they have to move him?”
“They took him back for more tests. He should be back soon.”
“Did he code? Seize? Hotch, what happened ?” Derek demands. He’s about to storm through the hospital until he gets answers.
“D’rek?” Derek whirls around.
“Spencer, baby, you’re awake.” Derek starts fussing over Spencer the moment the nurses step away.
“He woke up right before I texted you.” Hotch says quietly. “They took him back without telling me much of anything, and I got back to the room just before you."
"Derek?" Spencer says again, stronger this time. "Hotch?"
"Hey, pretty boy." Derek sits on the edge of the bed lightly. "You're gonna be okay."
"And I'm sure your family will be glad to hear it." Doctor Keener, who has been Spencer’s main doctor here, leans against the doorframe. "If his scans come back clean, I expect to clear him for medical transport in the next few days." They're given a few other details, but Derek knows that Hotch will be giving the team the news, so he doesn't worry too much about them.
Spencer, predictably, is not happy with having to stay in the hospital.
"Derek, I will sign myself out AMA." He threatens.
If he could walk more than a few steps by himself, Derek might take him more seriously.
"No, you won't. Eat your jello." Spencer hadn’t been awake this morning when Doctor Keener had stopped in, telling Derek that they were free to take Spencer home. Hotch has already made the arrangements for the jet to hold the necessary equipment (though there's not a lot at this point) and an ambulance will be meeting them at the airstrip.
Spencer sleeps through the flight, and through the ambulance ride to the hospital. It's not until Penelope gently sets the largest stuffed animal Derek has ever seen on the bed next to him that Spencer wakes up.
“‘Enny?” He asks softly, blinking up at her, and then on the stuffed owl next to him. “Penny, this is bigger than Jack.”
Derek can’t help it, he chuckles a little.
“Yes, boy wonder, it is! Henry and Jack helped pick out for you. I was going to get a couple smaller, more cuddlable plushies for you, but they insisted.”
“Thank you, Penelope.” Spencer says, rubbing a hand over the owl.
“I made sure to get one with the textures you like.” She grins at him, taking the chair opposite Derek.
“It’s so soft.” Spencer keeps running his good hand over the owl. Derek reaches out to pet it gently.
“Penny, I think I’m going to lose my spot in bed to this owl.” He teases. “It was a great pick.”
“When can I leave?” Spencer asks after a few minutes of silence.
“The doctors have to actually see you first, Spence.” Derek says.
“Oh! JJ just texted, she says Henry wants to know when he can see Spencer.” Penelope’s already halfway to typing out a message. Derek looks over Spencer; the bruising on his face has faded quite a bit, but his neck is covered in yellows and purples.
“Not yet.” Derek decides. “I know you want to see him, Spencer, but I think at this stage the bruises will scare him more than anything.”
Spencer has to spend another week in the hospital before he’s cleared to return home.
“Are you sure about this, pretty boy? You don’t have to move in if you’re not comfortable.” Derek says. The team--mostly Emily, Hotch, and Derek--have been relocating all of Spencer’s things into Derek’s house.
“Derek, I know I’m not well enough to be on my own right now. I think you
Penelope would move into my apartment if I tried to refuse. I know we’ve only been dating a few months, but we’ve known each other for years. If we don’t like living together after I’m healed, or think it’s too soon, I can go back to my apartment. But I don’t think that will happen. I want to live with you, Derek.” Spencer explains.
He’s on medical leave for two weeks, no casework whatsoever, and he’s already been told it’ll likely be six weeks before he’s cleared to fly.
“It’ll be fine, Der. Help me inside?” He means for Derek to take his hand and help him stand, maybe wrap an arm around his waist, but Derek picks him up in a princess carry instead.
“Always, baby.”
“Morgan, I hope you have the marriage papers ready.” Hotch says drily when they get into the living room. “I seem to remember Rossi carrying one of his wives in on their wedding day.”
“Hey!” Rossi yells. Spencer doesn’t know when he got here. “I’ll have you know it was two of them, and it might be a little old-style but it’s still very classy.”
“Rossi, did you take over our kitchen?” Derek calls back, amused.
“He's already calling it their kitchen." Emily stage-whispers to Hotch.
“I hate to play the bad guy, my crimefighters, but unless you’re cooking, I think it’s time we head out.” Penelope interrupts. “187 is looking a bit peaked.”
Spencer is tired, but he likes having the team around; he almost doesn't want them to leave.
“I’ll drop off donuts and coffee in the morning, Spencer, Derek.” Emily kisses his cheek lightly. “I know how this one gets without his sugar.”
If anyone does, it’s her--she threw out all his coffee when he was going through withdrawal six months ago, so he couldn’t replace one addiction with another.
(Given how much coffee he was drinking before that, he’s not sure he wasn’t already mildly addicted to caffeine.)
“Bye, Emily.” Spencer waves with his good hand.
“I won’t promise donuts and coffee, but I’ll stop by to visit when I can; I’ll bring Jack with me.” Hotch says.
“Let’s get you to bed, baby.” Derek murmurs. “You sleep, and when you wake up, we’ll have dinner, okay?”
Spencer takes the time to register the stuffed owl Penelope had gotten him is in the center of Derek’s bed.
“That’s our new cuddle buddy, babe.” Derek says, setting him down. “Do you feel up to changing, or do you want to go right to sleep?” Derek had helped him into a pair of sweatpants--he thinks JJ brought them, he’s never owned sweatpants--and a loose t-shirt before they left the hospital.
“Just sleep.” He’d never admit it in front the team, but he’s exhausted. The trip home is the most conscious movement he’s had in weeks, his leg, arm, and ribs are aching, and he just wants to curl up with his space-heater boyfriend.
“I’ll cuddle with you in a few minutes, okay? I’m gonna grab a glass of water for you in case you wake up and want it. Cuddle with Evie, okay?” When Henry had visited yesterday, he’d insisted the owl was to be called Evie. Spencer tugs the owl to his chest. It’s soft, and it’s light enough that he can have it on his chest without hurting his ribs. But it’s not as good as one of Penelope’s hugs, and it’s certainly not as good as Derek’s arms wrapped around him, warm and safe.
Derek slips into the bed behind him, able to cuddle him half-properly now that he doesn’t have an IV and monitors connected to him.
“When you’re all healed up, I’ll squeeze you as hard as you want, okay?” Derek says. “Now sleep. You’re thinking out loud again.” Spencer hums and closes his eyes, relishing in the comforting feeling of being loved.