(no subject)
Title: Cautious
Author: Spencer Lee
Series: Breaking Spencer Reid
Rating: FRM - safety's sake.
Pairing: slash, Hotch/Reid
Warnings: Mention of blood, some slash.
Feedback: I'll love you long time?
Sequel to: "Aftershock"
Summary: Hotch takes the first steps towards helping Reid find his way back to himself.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing, CBS still owns everything. Story of my life.
Notes: Shameless, gratuitous Hotch/Reid-ing. And the start of Arc 2: "Mending Spencer Reid".
-
---
-
"Seizing?"
"He went into withdrawal from the sedative Hatford used," Hotch sighed. Gideon handed him a small styrofoam cup filled with what Hotch knew to be lukewarm, bitter hospital coffee, which he wearily accepted.
"Any complications?"
"No, he didn't tear any stitches. But they're going to have to keep him one more night to be sure there's nothing else. And for the next few months, he's going to have to be weaned off the drugs very carefully. Barbiturate withdrawal can be fatal if it's not properly managed."
"I'm sure you're up to the task," Gideon assured him, none-too-eagerly swallowing some of the aforementioned coffee. Hotch nodded vaguely in response, more a gesture to indicate he'd heard Gideon than agreement. They sat quietly after that, and Hotch's eyes roved down the hall a little ways in the direction of Reid's room; Dr. Angler had promised to inform him when the latest batch of drugs would wear off, but...
"Is it all settled?" asked Gideon somberly.
"Yesterday." Hotch glanced down at his hand, eyes moving immediately to his now-unoccupied ring finger. "We signed the necessary papers months ago. Just before Hatford, we tried to patch things up, but it fell through... so, we finished up the very last of the paperwork as soon as CSU cleared it for fingerprints. The court finalized everything yesterday."
"I see."
Hotch sighed heavily and shook his head, a hint of sadness in his tone.
"Should I be doing what she's doing? Finding... happiness, in this?"
"G-man," called Dr. Angler from the doorway of the small sitting room. The friendly affection in her voice brought him out of his reverie; he looked up, expectantly curious. "He'll be up soon, if you want to see him--you're all cleared for extended visiting hours." She started to whirl away, but jumped back slightly and leaned her head through the doorway. "By the way, if the feds ever decide they don't want you anymore, you should really be a paramedic." A whimsical frown crossed her face. "You're better than most of our people are, 'specially here on the graveyard shift. We almost deserve the name." She laughed, and Hotch laughed with her.
"I'll keep that in mind," he assured her, grinning, and she smirked before strolling off to her next patient. Sighing, he got to his feet and reluctantly downed the rest of his coffee.
"Aaron." Gideon's voice was gentle, but insistent, and Hotch paused, though he kept his eyes pinned to the styrofoam.
"Yeah?"
"Divorce is never happy," Gideon reminded him. "Instead of focusing on the one that just closed, try to find some joy in the doors that are opening for you." Hotch looked away from his coffee cup and found Gideon smiling encouragingly at him. He got the hint.
---
"How're you feeling?"
"As expected," Reid mumbled slowly, "disoriented, lethargic... it's normal for the post-ictal period; some people who have seizures are so exhausted afterward that they can't do much for the rest of the day."
"Other than that?"
"Nothing besides that, no." A pause. "How's your leg?"
"It's all right--walking with a crutch takes some getting used to, but I'll be off it in two weeks. I just hope the elevator at the hotel will be working when we get back to Virginia."
"You're staying at a hotel?"
"The house is Haley's now," he pointed out.
A pause. Following the brief silence, however, the significance of the statement registered with Reid instantaneously.
"Hotch, you and Haley...?"
"As of yesterday." He reached into his pocket and produced his wedding ring, setting it on the bedside table with a gentle clink. "I'm now Aaron Hotchner: the Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner: the father, and Aaron Hotchner: the ex-husband." The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile as he added, "And Aaron Hotchner: the nomad, at the moment."
"CSU should be more than finished with my apartment, if you need somewhere to stay," Reid said sincerely, frowning. "You shouldn't have to jump from hotel to hotel--with this job, it's important to have somewhere solid and stable to go home to..." Sympathy. Another pause, which Reid quickly followed with, "Just--just ah, until you've... got somewhere to stay... if that'd be... too..." His excuses faded and he chewed his lip again. It was Hotch's turn to frown.
"Reid, you're bleeding."
"What?" Reid stammered, startled from his thoughts.
"Here..." Hotch reached out to wipe a drop of blood from the corner of Reid's mouth, looking warily over his shoulder for a nurse.
"It's not internal!" Reid said quickly, and Hotch eased back into his seat. "It's pretty normal, ah, relatively speaking. While seizing, people sometimes bite the insides of their mouths to the point that it induces bleeding. I must have reopened something..."
"Sorry. I should have remembered that," Hotch said, nodding. "Does it hurt?"
"Yeah... a little." Reid winced. "I can't tell where it is..."
"Are there any precautions against this sort of thing that I should remember, in case you seize again?"
"Well, actually, there isn't much you can do about it--you're not supposed to put anything in a seizing person's mouth."
A pause. Hotch leaned a little closer, folding his arms and resting them on the bar at the side of the bed. "Are you seizing now?" he murmured. Reid shifted towards the side of the bed, slowly, carefully sitting up with the help of Hotch's hand, secure against his back.
"No..." Soft, almost silken. God, it had been a cliché moment to end all cliché moments, but...
He let one hand trail shyly up Hotch's sleeve, settling on his shoulder; instead of pushing him back, it drew him nearer. Hotch's fingers skated along his shoulder, the back of his neck, his cheek, and without breaking eye contact, he set his fingertips drifting lightly over Reid's bottom lip, brushing away the last trace of blood. Then he leaned in and touched his lips to Reid's, just barely, waiting.
Seconds slipped by and Reid's hand on his shoulder slid around to tangle lightly in his hair. Reid pushed forward, solidifying the connection, and released a soft sigh into the kiss, fingers clutching at Hotch's shirt. Hotch eased back slightly, not sure of how to interpret it, but the hand pulled him closer and Reid whispered, "No, it's all right" against his mouth, and he pressed back again.
After a few more moments, Hotch stilled, and the fingers that had been idly stroking Reid's cheek trailed down to rest just under his bottom lip, pushing down and parting his lips slightly in a silent request. Reid gave something almost like a nod, and the hand in Hotch's hair eased down so that Reid's arm hooked around Hotch's neck, drawing him in. Careful not to take him by surprise, Hotch eased at Reid's lips, just a tentative prod at first, before slipping his tongue into Reid's mouth.
A barely-audible moan from Reid reassured him, and he continued, cautiously, caressing the copper-tinged cuts and marks, answering with a moan of his own when contact with Reid's tongue sent a shockwave through his body. God, it had been so long since he and Haley had been any shade of intimate... and the fact that it was Reid, somehow...
A knock on the door, and Hotch drew back quickly, clearing his throat, lowering his eyes to the level of Reid's mouth--Reid took the hint and let his mouth fall open as awkwardly as it normally would in the situation, eyes turning to look as Dr. Angler entered.
"He was bleeding some," Hotch explained. "I wanted to make sure..." He prayed his hair was not in the disheveled state he imagined it was.
The amused grin on her face told him that it definitely was.
"Well, that's normal, he probably bit down on the inside of his mouth while he was seizing... here, I brought the rest of the forms. He only needs to stay tonight--just sign here, and you can take him right on home tomorrow."
"Thank you," Hotch said absently, signing quickly and avoiding her eyes. He saw her smirk widen out of the corner of his eye, and Reid grinned innocently at her from the bed.
"Well, c'mon, G-man. Extended visiting hours end in two minutes." She winked. "He needs his rest... and by the looks of you, so do you." Clearly enjoying herself, she strolled away, leaving Reid fixing his hair awkwardly and staring at the sheets.
"I... uh." Hotch was currently at a loss for words, and Reid had to smile bemusedly at the inarticulate moment. "About... staying with you. You're gonna need someone around to double-check while you're detoxing..."
Reid just smiled wider.
Author: Spencer Lee
Series: Breaking Spencer Reid
Rating: FRM - safety's sake.
Pairing: slash, Hotch/Reid
Warnings: Mention of blood, some slash.
Feedback: I'll love you long time?
Sequel to: "Aftershock"
Summary: Hotch takes the first steps towards helping Reid find his way back to himself.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing, CBS still owns everything. Story of my life.
Notes: Shameless, gratuitous Hotch/Reid-ing. And the start of Arc 2: "Mending Spencer Reid".
-
---
-
"Seizing?"
"He went into withdrawal from the sedative Hatford used," Hotch sighed. Gideon handed him a small styrofoam cup filled with what Hotch knew to be lukewarm, bitter hospital coffee, which he wearily accepted.
"Any complications?"
"No, he didn't tear any stitches. But they're going to have to keep him one more night to be sure there's nothing else. And for the next few months, he's going to have to be weaned off the drugs very carefully. Barbiturate withdrawal can be fatal if it's not properly managed."
"I'm sure you're up to the task," Gideon assured him, none-too-eagerly swallowing some of the aforementioned coffee. Hotch nodded vaguely in response, more a gesture to indicate he'd heard Gideon than agreement. They sat quietly after that, and Hotch's eyes roved down the hall a little ways in the direction of Reid's room; Dr. Angler had promised to inform him when the latest batch of drugs would wear off, but...
"Is it all settled?" asked Gideon somberly.
"Yesterday." Hotch glanced down at his hand, eyes moving immediately to his now-unoccupied ring finger. "We signed the necessary papers months ago. Just before Hatford, we tried to patch things up, but it fell through... so, we finished up the very last of the paperwork as soon as CSU cleared it for fingerprints. The court finalized everything yesterday."
"I see."
Hotch sighed heavily and shook his head, a hint of sadness in his tone.
"Should I be doing what she's doing? Finding... happiness, in this?"
"G-man," called Dr. Angler from the doorway of the small sitting room. The friendly affection in her voice brought him out of his reverie; he looked up, expectantly curious. "He'll be up soon, if you want to see him--you're all cleared for extended visiting hours." She started to whirl away, but jumped back slightly and leaned her head through the doorway. "By the way, if the feds ever decide they don't want you anymore, you should really be a paramedic." A whimsical frown crossed her face. "You're better than most of our people are, 'specially here on the graveyard shift. We almost deserve the name." She laughed, and Hotch laughed with her.
"I'll keep that in mind," he assured her, grinning, and she smirked before strolling off to her next patient. Sighing, he got to his feet and reluctantly downed the rest of his coffee.
"Aaron." Gideon's voice was gentle, but insistent, and Hotch paused, though he kept his eyes pinned to the styrofoam.
"Yeah?"
"Divorce is never happy," Gideon reminded him. "Instead of focusing on the one that just closed, try to find some joy in the doors that are opening for you." Hotch looked away from his coffee cup and found Gideon smiling encouragingly at him. He got the hint.
---
"How're you feeling?"
"As expected," Reid mumbled slowly, "disoriented, lethargic... it's normal for the post-ictal period; some people who have seizures are so exhausted afterward that they can't do much for the rest of the day."
"Other than that?"
"Nothing besides that, no." A pause. "How's your leg?"
"It's all right--walking with a crutch takes some getting used to, but I'll be off it in two weeks. I just hope the elevator at the hotel will be working when we get back to Virginia."
"You're staying at a hotel?"
"The house is Haley's now," he pointed out.
A pause. Following the brief silence, however, the significance of the statement registered with Reid instantaneously.
"Hotch, you and Haley...?"
"As of yesterday." He reached into his pocket and produced his wedding ring, setting it on the bedside table with a gentle clink. "I'm now Aaron Hotchner: the Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner: the father, and Aaron Hotchner: the ex-husband." The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile as he added, "And Aaron Hotchner: the nomad, at the moment."
"CSU should be more than finished with my apartment, if you need somewhere to stay," Reid said sincerely, frowning. "You shouldn't have to jump from hotel to hotel--with this job, it's important to have somewhere solid and stable to go home to..." Sympathy. Another pause, which Reid quickly followed with, "Just--just ah, until you've... got somewhere to stay... if that'd be... too..." His excuses faded and he chewed his lip again. It was Hotch's turn to frown.
"Reid, you're bleeding."
"What?" Reid stammered, startled from his thoughts.
"Here..." Hotch reached out to wipe a drop of blood from the corner of Reid's mouth, looking warily over his shoulder for a nurse.
"It's not internal!" Reid said quickly, and Hotch eased back into his seat. "It's pretty normal, ah, relatively speaking. While seizing, people sometimes bite the insides of their mouths to the point that it induces bleeding. I must have reopened something..."
"Sorry. I should have remembered that," Hotch said, nodding. "Does it hurt?"
"Yeah... a little." Reid winced. "I can't tell where it is..."
"Are there any precautions against this sort of thing that I should remember, in case you seize again?"
"Well, actually, there isn't much you can do about it--you're not supposed to put anything in a seizing person's mouth."
A pause. Hotch leaned a little closer, folding his arms and resting them on the bar at the side of the bed. "Are you seizing now?" he murmured. Reid shifted towards the side of the bed, slowly, carefully sitting up with the help of Hotch's hand, secure against his back.
"No..." Soft, almost silken. God, it had been a cliché moment to end all cliché moments, but...
He let one hand trail shyly up Hotch's sleeve, settling on his shoulder; instead of pushing him back, it drew him nearer. Hotch's fingers skated along his shoulder, the back of his neck, his cheek, and without breaking eye contact, he set his fingertips drifting lightly over Reid's bottom lip, brushing away the last trace of blood. Then he leaned in and touched his lips to Reid's, just barely, waiting.
Seconds slipped by and Reid's hand on his shoulder slid around to tangle lightly in his hair. Reid pushed forward, solidifying the connection, and released a soft sigh into the kiss, fingers clutching at Hotch's shirt. Hotch eased back slightly, not sure of how to interpret it, but the hand pulled him closer and Reid whispered, "No, it's all right" against his mouth, and he pressed back again.
After a few more moments, Hotch stilled, and the fingers that had been idly stroking Reid's cheek trailed down to rest just under his bottom lip, pushing down and parting his lips slightly in a silent request. Reid gave something almost like a nod, and the hand in Hotch's hair eased down so that Reid's arm hooked around Hotch's neck, drawing him in. Careful not to take him by surprise, Hotch eased at Reid's lips, just a tentative prod at first, before slipping his tongue into Reid's mouth.
A barely-audible moan from Reid reassured him, and he continued, cautiously, caressing the copper-tinged cuts and marks, answering with a moan of his own when contact with Reid's tongue sent a shockwave through his body. God, it had been so long since he and Haley had been any shade of intimate... and the fact that it was Reid, somehow...
A knock on the door, and Hotch drew back quickly, clearing his throat, lowering his eyes to the level of Reid's mouth--Reid took the hint and let his mouth fall open as awkwardly as it normally would in the situation, eyes turning to look as Dr. Angler entered.
"He was bleeding some," Hotch explained. "I wanted to make sure..." He prayed his hair was not in the disheveled state he imagined it was.
The amused grin on her face told him that it definitely was.
"Well, that's normal, he probably bit down on the inside of his mouth while he was seizing... here, I brought the rest of the forms. He only needs to stay tonight--just sign here, and you can take him right on home tomorrow."
"Thank you," Hotch said absently, signing quickly and avoiding her eyes. He saw her smirk widen out of the corner of his eye, and Reid grinned innocently at her from the bed.
"Well, c'mon, G-man. Extended visiting hours end in two minutes." She winked. "He needs his rest... and by the looks of you, so do you." Clearly enjoying herself, she strolled away, leaving Reid fixing his hair awkwardly and staring at the sheets.
"I... uh." Hotch was currently at a loss for words, and Reid had to smile bemusedly at the inarticulate moment. "About... staying with you. You're gonna need someone around to double-check while you're detoxing..."
Reid just smiled wider.