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“Reid’s locked himself in the Unsub’s office.” Morgan stated, matter of fact, as he stormed out of the house and onto the path, where Hotch had been standing – stoic, arms crossed with his signature glare fixed on the windows of the house.
“What?” Came first from Hotch, rage building behind his eyes, his gaze shifted to Morgan, who felt a shiver rush down the back of his spine like he did everytime he ended up on the receiving end of Hotch’s eyeline when they were on a case as stressful as this. Nevermind the added anger burning through his skull about one of his agents, Reid of all people, becoming another martyr. “Get back in there and get Reid out.”
Morgan nodded, the look they shared before Hotch turned away and reached for his phone was one of mutual respect, a look that silently said ‘that boy is the dumbest genius we know.’
Much to Hotch's dismay, Spencer was stubborn about staying in the lab. His reasoning was solid though. He was infected – that much was certain – and getting him out wouldn't get them any closer to catching the unsub or finding a possible antidote hidden in the confines of his house. Reid's a smart kid, but a kid with no regard for self-preservation. It was admirable, from Hotch's perspective at least. As his boss, it was the best combination of traits you would want in an FBI agent; genius-level intelligence mixed with a need for completion, closure on cases and every loose thread you would ever need sewn shut. As his friend, it caused him more stress than neither Reid nor Hotch realised. More than usual, compared to the rest of the team. Hotch rationalised his train of thoughts with the fact that Spencer was their loose cannon, with each shot building a reservoir of gunpowder at its base, risking a martyrdom-like explosion as time progressed. Nothing else.
Still, it hurt to see him throw himself recklessly into dangerous situations in the name of completion. If only he knew how many people would miss him. Aaron quickly came to the conclusion that he needed to talk to Spencer, not as his boss but as his friend. On behalf of the BAU. For his own sake. It would be unkind of him to let Spencer continue on like this without the knowledge in his eidetic memory that people actually cared about him. He hoped it would cause a change of heart. The team wasn’t complete without any of its members, Spencer included.
He tried not to let it get to him. Desperately. They had found the key piece of evidence they had needed to track down the Unsub and, like they always miraculously managed to do, they caught him. The lieutenant was pretty quick witted in how he was able to resolve the situation, luring in the Unsub with a request that they all knew he would never turn down. It sounded like a diversion Spencer would make, just how he had saved him – or at least stopped either of them from being hurt – from Chester Hardwick. The kid was wise beyond his years, and it weirdly made the age gap between the pair feel nonexistent. Yes, he wasn’t an old sage but he wasn’t fresh out of university either. He had faced a lot of shit from his peers, this much he knew from experience of rumours spread among the more jealous trainees and agents of the FBI, but it never stopped him from working; which brought with it the realisation that Reid was very used to the criticisms. He had met his mother, knew of Spencer’s fears around hereditary schizophrenia; Hotch knew, at a base level, that he was one of the strongest people he had the pleasure of knowing.
Spencer was still in the hospital when he arrived to check on him, nodding to Morgan as they passed each other on the route to his room. Now wasn’t the time to berate the kid for his reckless behaviour, but he needed to know that Spencer knew that what he did – though impulsive – was admirable. He needed to tell him. His heart ached as he turned the corner into Spencer’s room, seeing the boy genius prone on the hospital bed, linked up to IVs and monitors. It looked like the treatment of a dying man, though Reid’s small smile when he entered the room gave him a spark of hope for his survival. He had been through worse and had come out better each and every time.
“Reid.”
“Hotch.” Spencer croaked back, throat scratchy from disuse. “I know, I know.” He paused again to cough, swallowing the built-up saliva in his mouth, “I shouldn’t have gone in there alone, I should’ve come out as soon as I realised the anthrax was loose in the lab. I know, Hotch.” He rolled his eyes at his Unit Chief, raising an eyebrow when the face that was looking back at him was sad.
Hotch didn’t acknowledge Reid’s attempts of sarcasm, continuing with the spiel he had planned on his walk from the SUV to his room, “You were pretty brave out there, Doctor. Admirable work, but – as I’m sure you’re aware – we were all worried for you. You’re a valuable member of the team, Spence. ” He took a breath in, meeting Spencer’s eyes with a newfound beat of emotion falling between them. Hotch backtracked, attempting to revert to professionalism, “Anthrax is a tricky thing to recover from. I’m glad you’re doing better now, at least.”
Spencer teared up almost instantly, eyes defocusing on the busy corridor through the square window of the wooden door. In the corner of his eye, he saw Hotch – Aaron – sink into the chair facing his bed, hand covering the bottom half of his face, rubbing just above his lip as he had been habitually doing for years whenever he was stressed, he looked at Spencer as if he was already dead. Maybe that’s what he expected when he arrived. He blinked a few times, noticing the slight blur of tears that he wanted to wipe away, but his body was too tired to move.
“You’d have to try a lot harder than that to kill me.” Spencer joked, the light laugh that accompanied his attempt at a mood-lightening statement being mixed with a choked cry. Aaron reciprocated with a smile.
Hotch stood and walked over to the side of his bed, and after checking the small window didn’t have another one of his agents waiting outside, he reached down with one hand and wiped the tear underneath Spencer’s eye away with his thumb. The heart rate monitor next to them began to speed up ever so slightly. Reid widened his eyes, cursing his instincts while Aaron only chuckled inaudibly. They both let themselves be absorbed in the moment of contact, years of unspoken feelings continuing to go unsaid. At least now they both had an inkling in the backs of their minds of the potential for reciprocation from the other man. Nevermind the FBI fraternisation rules. Hotch was thankful that Reid was alive, just as Spencer was relieved that he held on and didn’t die before knowing how Aaron felt towards him.
“I thought I was going to lose you.”
Before Hotch could make another mistake, he pulled his hand back, taking a breath in and straightening his back. Reid nodded, moreso to himself, to acknowledge that Aaron had reinstated himself as Hotch. The unit chief paused in the doorway, turning back to Reid – who looked abysmally small in the space of the hospital room.
“Never do that again, Reid. That’s an order.”
“Of course, Sir.” Spencer bowed his head, smiling quietly to himself as the door clicked shut.
That was the first time he called him ‘Spence’.