Chapter Text
Reid woke up feeling like crap. His throat was sore, and when he tried to talk, nothing came out.
He took his temperature, and he didn’t have one. 98.6. Probably the best temperature he could have. So, he wasn’t contagious. He just had a sore throat.
Though, he knew it wasn’t ideal as he was exposed to anthrax a few months ago. And it wasn’t exactly ideal for him to get sick. He knew now he got sick more easily. And a normal sickness or infection that wouldn’t matter so much before, could probably kill him now.
He had only been cleared to go back to work a month ago. He hated not being useful. Not being in the field. He knew the team would much rather him be healthy and alive than pushing himself too far. But at the same time, he felt like he had to prove his worth. Especially since he made the decision to go into Dr. Nichol’s house in the first place. Nobody made him go in there.
He knew he had to so they could find the cure. He knew there was no other way. Of course after he recovered, the team insisted he had a death wish. They joked they needed to put him on a leash. Or cover him in bubblewrap. He was their danger magnet, and he needed to be more careful.
He was grateful that they always looked out for him, but sometimes they were overbearing. He was 27. Almost 30. They still called him “kid”. Still acted like he was the youngest, and newest. Even though he had already been on the team for almost five years, JJ was only six months older than him. Nobody ever babied her the same way they did with him.
In true Reid fashion, he decided that he wasn’t going to tell them. If he left soon, he could go to the closest drug store, and get some cough drops. Maybe some tea. He knew that would help his throat more than coffee would.
He just needed to make it through the day without talking so much. But he couldn’t be too quiet, or else the team would know something was wrong then. As the words ‘Spencer Reid’ and ‘Quiet’, never belonged in the same sentence.
It was always a concept he never truly understood. They always cut him off mid-sentence, or rolled their eyes when he started going on tangents. But then they would always ask if he was alright whenever he got quiet. He felt like he could never win. There was some unspoken rule he never quite got.
So, with that in mind, he finished getting ready. He wore his usual dress shirt, sweater vest, and slacks. He grabbed a cardigan for good measure, since they always kept the bullpen freezing. Especially in the D.C summer heat.
Much to his luck (which rarely was ever in his favor), he made it into work early. He went to the kitchenette and made himself some tea. Hopefully that would help get his voice back. He hated being sick. Being sick meant doctors. Those meant hospitals. That meant the team smothering him and acting like he had never been ill before.
The tea did help, and everyone was filtering in. “Morning, pretty boy,” Morgan said, as he was setting his things down at his desk.
“Mor-morning,” He finally was able to rasp out. He cursed at himself for not testing his voice more. He smiled and nodded at the cashier at the store, and he wished he talked to them.
“You good? You sound like crap,” Morgan said, now becoming serious, as the teasing tone in his voice was gone.
He nodded. He showed Morgan the tea and cough drops. He even bought some cough syrup just in case for good measure. “No temp. Just no voice,” He whispered, letting him know he wasn’t that sick.
Morgan didn’t look quite convinced, as he was still recovering from the infection a few months ago. Though, he knew Reid was as stubborn as they come, and wouldn’t accept help unless he was actually passing out. And couldn’t ignore it. So, he knew he needed to drop it until he was ready to admit that he wasn’t feeling well.
“If you say so. Let me know if you need anything, kid,” Morgan said, giving the genius some space. He learned the hard way that Reid didn’t trust easily, and if anyone broke it, it was hard to earn back.
Reid smiled weakly, as he was grateful that Morgan was allowing him to chose what’s best for himself. Normally, they would demand he go see a doctor. Or tell Hotch. They would act like he didn’t know how to make decisions for himself. That he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself. That he didn’t know how.
Even though he had been since he was 10, and his dad left. He’d been taking care of himself when most kids were still learning fractions. He was more capable than they gave him credit for.
“Reid? Earh to Reid?” Prentiss said, as she snapped her fingers in his face. “You good? I’ve been calling you for the past three minutes.” She said, now sounding more concerned that he was spacing out.
Had it been that long? He didn’t remember zoning out. Maybe he was more sick than he initially thought. “I-“ He started, but then realized he had no chance of talking. He then shook his head, finally admitting that he wasn’t feeling well.
“Okay, okay, let’s get you to Hotch,” She said, as he tried getting up from his chair.
He swayed pretty hard, and she instantly got his arm around her neck. Holding the genius up was hard, and Morgan came over to help. While he didn’t weigh much (that was a conversation for another time), he was still tall. And she was at least a head shorter than him.
They made their way to Hotch’s office, who immediately hung up the phone once he saw the state of their youngest. “What happened?” He questioned.
“He has no voice. He said he didn’t have a temperature, but given what he was exposed to, it’s getting worse quickly,” Prentiss explained, as Hotch took it all in.
They couldn’t lose Reid. Not after everything he’d been through. He’s survived so much, and they can’t lose him to laryngitis. Not to something so minuscule. Not to something that was preventable.
“Take him to the infirmary. Get his lungs looked at,” Hotch ordered, making sure to let them know his health was the top priority.
“Should we call Kimura?” Emily asked, knowing she would be the one who could tell the doctors the classified information regarding to the anthrax.
Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t think about that. “Only if things get worse,” He said, as Emily and Morgan nodded.
The three of them made their way there. They explained everything to the doctors, as they got him checked out. They gave him some breathing treatments. Some antibiotics that could help slow the infection.
He spent a few hours in the infirmary, and he felt like he was able to go back to work. He was sent back to desk duty, and vocal rest. He wasn’t meant to talk for the next few days. If he didn’t overexert himself, he’d be back to his normal state in no time.
Over the next day, he couldn’t talk. He had to write down everything he needed to say. Once the team knew he was in better shape, the jokes started coming. About how he had a “mute button”. About how they didn’t know he could be silent.
“You hear that?” Morgan asked the team, as they were doing paperwork.
Emily raised an eyebrow, as she didn’t know what he was referring to. “No, Morgan, I do not. Enlighten me,” She replied.
“Exactly. You hear nothing,” He said, motioning over to Reid who was minding his own business working at his desk.
Reid gave a half smile. He knew he talked a lot. He saw the way people rolled their eyes. He heard their comments about him being “life like”, or one of them wanting the last few minutes of their life back. Or the worst was when people just cut him off and walked away.
But now? That he was on mandatory vocal rest? He didn’t find it funny. In fact, he was thinking about how maybe, just maybe, things would be better if he couldn’t talk anymore. He knew he was annoying. That people got tired of him. And once they got tired of him, they left.
Maybe, he should just keep quiet. That way none of the team would leave him again. That he could make himself more tolerable to them. He could mold into whatever they wanted. That way he wouldn’t annoy anyone anymore. He could be someone they actually liked.
Not someone who was just needed for the profile, then was cut off every time he spoke. He quickly excused himself to the restroom. He made his way to a stall, and he needed a minute. He knew that Morgan and the others teased him because they loved him.
That it was how they showed that he was actually part of the team. He knew that when they stopped, that’s when he should be worried. Though, he tried not to let the comments get to him. He couldn’t help but think that there was some truth into what Morgan was saying. Especially now since he wasn’t able to talk.
Despite the germs, he made his way to the wall, and slid down. He pulled his knees up, and buried his head. He couldn’t deal with it. Everything. The jokes. Only feeling like he was worth something when he was contributed to the team.
He tried to stop it, but the tears were already forming. He did his best to stop he sobs. But he couldn’t help it. They came anyway, and he just let it happen.
He heard the door open, and footsteps coming in. “Pretty boy, I know you’re in here,” Morgan said, as he spotted Reid’s Converse and mismatched socks under the stall.
Reid choked on a sob, as he couldn’t let Morgan see him like this. He still wanted them to joke with him. To rib him a little. That’s what they did with each other. He just wish that the jokes at his expense didn’t seem so personal.
“You don’t want to be sitting in all of those germs. Open up, and we’ll get you a pad and paper so we can talk,” Morgan offered, as Reid reluctantly unlocked the stall.
Morgan was looking concerned, as Reid wiped his eyes. “Who hurt you?” He asked, as he knew Reid didn’t like crying or talking about any kind of emotion with them. As if his feelings weren’t valid since he was a genius.
Reid shook his head. How could he tell Morgan that he was the one who unintentionally did? Communicating his feelings was never his strong suit. And he hated making things a bigger deal then they were.
“C’mon, kid. You talk a mile a minute. Now, you’re sobbing and have nothing to say?” Morgan offered, as he tried to coax the kid out of whatever was going on.
Reid sobbed even harder, and Morgan pulled him into a hug. At first, Reid tensed. But then allowed Morgan to hug him. He was not normally one for hugs, but with everything going on, he didn’t hate it.
Once he calmed down, he agreed to go to a private conference room and talk.
“Alright, kid. What’s going on?” Morgan asked, as Reid was writing down his thoughts.
‘Maybe I should just stop talking,’ He wrote, which shocked Morgan.
Reid? Not wanting to talk? There was obviously something very, very wrong if that was his reaction to some teasing. “Where is this coming from?”
‘You guys always joke I talk too much. Or cut me off. Call me a robot. Maybe I’m only good at talking when it’s about cases. You guys always say I’m not conversational anyway’ He wrote, and instantly regretted it. He didn’t mean it like that. He was just frustrated that he could never figure out what they wanted from him.
“Kid, we joke because we like you. But if we ever cross the line, you call us out. Tell us when it’s bothering you. We want to hear your voice,” Morgan said, meaning every word. He knew he was a bit of a jackass when Reid first joined the team. And learned that the kid enjoyed playful banter rather than just straight up mocking him.
Reid nodded. He was never good at expressing how he felt. Others seemed to understand that teasing wasn’t personal, or other cues that everyone got instantly. ‘Ok. I’m tired. I think I actually want to take the rest of the day’ He wrote, finally admitting that he was in fact feeling like shit.
“Okay, okay, let’s go to Hotch, and we can tell him you’re not up for the rest of the day,” He said, and the two of them went to the Unit Chief’s office.
Morgan knocked on the door, and the two of them let themselves in. “Reid wants to take the rest of the day off. He’s not feeling great. I’ll take him home,” He offered, as Hotch looked up at them.
Reid didn’t exactly look great, and for him to willingly choose to want to go home, Hotch knew it was bad. “Alright. Get some rest, Reid. If you’re still feeling like this tomorrow, let us know, alright,” He said, letting Reid know his health was more important than anything.
The genius appreciated the support. He was glad they were listening to him. He felt like it didn’t happen very often. He and Morgan went to his SUV. Luckily the ride was only about 20 minutes, as traffic wasn’t as awful as it could have been.
He didn’t realize he fell asleep until Morgan shook his shoulder when they arrived at his building. “Wake up, kid,” Morgan said, trying to get the kid awake. “You fell asleep right as we turned out of the parking garage.”
Oh.
Reid was never good at figuring out those things. When he was tired, or hungry, until it was too late. He was groggy, and didn’t quite know where he was. He felt the car door open, and Morgan gently guided him out and up to his room.
“Do you want me to stay?” He asked, and Reid again was grateful that he asked, instead of insisted.
Reid thought about it. All he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep seemed like such a good idea, he just needed help getting changed into his pajamas, and into bed. He ended up nodding.
Morgan was not surprised at the state of Reid’s apartment. There were books lined up everywhere. Coffee mugs left out on the counter. A chess board across from the TV with several seasons of Doctor Who, and Star Track on the shelves.
“Okay, okay. Pajamas? Then bed?” He asked, as Reid showed him where his room and dressers were.
He got out some plaid pajama bottoms, and a CalTech crewneck. He got changed, and Morgan undid the bed. Which had little galaxies on them. “Alright, kid. Do you want me to stay?” He asked, as Reid shook his head.
Morgan was hesitant, but respected Reid’s wishes. It was hard, but he knew Reid was an adult who was in fact capable of making his own choices. “Okay. If you wake up and change your mind, don’t hesitate to text any of us,”
Reid nodded, before eventually drifting off to sleep. He woke up the next day, not remembering anything. He saw the time, and it was already late morning. He saw he had a few missed texts from the team asking where he was and how he was doing.
He said that he was feeling awful, and probably won’t be in. He was about to answer the text, when he heard a knock on his door. He got himself out of bed, which seemed like such an impossible task at the time.
Though, when he stood up, he started coughing like crazy. Harder than he ever had before. The fit went on for longer than he liked. He coughed until he felt blood drip down his chin. He still tried to get to the door, but felt the floor collapsing underneath him. Just as quickly as he got up, he collapsed.
It was then the door burst open, revealing Emily and Derek storming in. “Shit, Reid!” Morgan yelled, as he saw the genius unconscious on the floor with a bit of blood trailing down his chin.
“Spencer? Honey?” Emily asked, as she was crouching down checking his pulse. “Morgan, call 911!” She yelled, as she found the faintest pulse.
Morgan was on the phone in an instant. He told them the address, and they said they’d be there as fast as possible. But it never seemed fast enough.
He woke up, but barely. Everything was blurry. “Spence, Spence, baby look at me,” She said, without realizing what slipped out.
He was so young. He couldn’t go like this. He was disoriented, and started coughing again. He’s trying to talk, but couldn’t. “Shhh don’t talk. Reid, we’re here. You’re going to be okay,” Morgan told him, as the knock on the door came.
The paramedics came, lifted him on the gurney to check his vitals. “He had laryngitis. It was just laryngitis. Something happened, and we found him like this,” Emily told them, as she wasn’t sure if they were allowed to mention the anthrax exposure. “He doesn’t take narcotics.”
The EMT nodded, as they were checking him out. “If we came any later, it would’ve been much worse. We need to get him to the hospital,” They said as Morgan volunteered to ride with Reid.
“Should we call Kimura now?” Emily asked, even though she felt like she already knew the answer.
“Absolutely,” Morgan replied, as he went with Reid to the hospital.