Breathe Deeper (Criminal Minds, Hotch/Reid fanfic FRAO) sequel to Breathe
It had been a week since Spencer had accepted any visitors, he knew his friends were feeling anxious, he had that much of an inkling with them outside the door to his apartment in such a large group.
Hotch wanted a debriefing, Morgan wanted to make sure Reid was alright- he wasn’t, how could he be really? -Rossi wanted… he had no idea what Rossi wanted, it was more surprising than anything else that he showed up, he was usually more aloof than that. Prentiss, JJ and Garcia apparently had some strong urge to feed him and clean up his apartment or something to make his life easier… which baffled him further, sure JJ had that maternal instinct going full-force, but Prentiss? A cat was the high-end of her reliability and maternal instincts. She kind of avoided that. Garcia, well, she cooked when she fidgeted. More precisely, she baked.
He remembered from a long time ago just how good the cookies she had baked for Hotch had smelled. Sure, at the time he felt a little bit like chopped-liver, he had been shot in the leg but apparently heroically saving a life counted for a Dum-Dum lollipop.
He wondered if this earned him a Snickers fun-bar at least, or was this even more pathetic?
His hand hovered at the door. It was strange, his reasoning for opening the door was solely going to be based on if Garcia offended him by offering nothing or if she baked him something delicious. His entire ‘start’ of rehabilitation with the team would be based on something so fragile.
…She baked pecan coffee-crumble pie. Well played, Garcia, well played. To the surprise of the entirety of the BAU outside of Spencer’s door, he unlocked the deadbolt, the two chains, and opened the door to allow them in.
He hadn’t expected to see Rossi carry in a platter of other food, but it suddenly dawned on him, he was going to host Thanksgiving. He felt exhausted. He left the hospital, against doctors’ recommendations, three hours after his arrival.
Somehow, he managed to convince Hotch- no, probably Aaron- to take him home. That probably made him into a bit of a jerk, he had played to the man’s need to control the environment to feel he was adequately protected… and then succinctly kicked him out of his apartment upon settling in.
His lover had tried, admirably so, to deflect- but once Spencer delivered the hard blow about how he needed to take a shower and the last thing he wanted to see when he was naked right now was another man hovering… well, he was rewarded with the door softly clicking shut and promises that he’d come back to check on him within the hour. That was when Aaron learned that Spencer had long ago invested in two chain locks that he hadn’t gotten around to installing… well, until just before he took a shower.
Then he took a three hour long steaming hot shower. The shower actually ran for five hours, but the hot water gave out long before he completed his ritualistic purging of skin cells.
The first panic attack after leaving the hospital came immediately after the shower. For a moment, and some genius he was for that, he forgot about how in his mirrored reflection, he was male with male anatomy… and he hadn’t lied when he said that he didn’t want to see a male body when he got out of the shower. A naked one had been worse. His own phallus had sent him into chest spasms and left him reeling upon the floor for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes he was sure he was only partially conscious for at best.
It had been a week, though, and Reid was running out of supplies, and the others were running out of patience for his own denial. Hell, he knew Hotch had staked out his door the first day, he heard him pound periodically, that was what made him wake up from the bathroom floor- actually.
He fell asleep leaning against the door, just listening to Aaron as he pleaded with him- Hotch of all people pleading it was laudable- to undo the chains and let him in. The man just kept gently talking to him as he fell asleep blocking the light from the bottom of the door. Aaron seemed content with that, though, because the next day after he came back from the BAU, he did the same thing. He knocked on the door, he softly pleaded for Reid to say anything to him- that if he didn’t he’d break down the door…
So Reid had told him he was sore and resting.
And he had rested, just before the door as he listened to Hotch talk to him, he told him about the youngest brother. The youngest of four, found dead in his private cell, bled out after he used a bed leg to impale himself with.
Reid couldn’t muster the energy to fake an empathetic response.
“I hope it hurt like hell.”
He knew that had shocked Hotch, Reid was supposed to be forgiving- wasn’t he? It made Reid unlock the deadbolt and peer through the double-chained door to lock eyes with Hotch. He didn’t think it was possible for the man to look more tired than he felt… but he was as red-eyed as Reid. Though, Reid’s eyes were puffier- crying and all…
He let Hotch curl his fingers around the door and touched his fingertips with his hand. He knew Hotch could feel them shaking. This was Hotch, the one man who he had never had a problem with touching before, and even this was the edge of his limits.
“I want to shut the door now.” He said, his own voice faint, he could feel his chest tighten. Was it because Hotch looked so hurt or because he felt so afraid? And of what? The one man who he counted on most time and again? Hotch took his hand from the door and gave a firm, authoritative nod.
“Spencer- I’m not leaving.”
“I never thought you were.” He said, he leaned back down the side of the door. His chest burned. He reached a hand back and clicked the lock back into place. Hotch let out a slow breath.
“I still love you, Spencer.”
“…I still love you, Aaron.” The younger man replied, his tone only changing from the panicked pitches of breath he lost. “This isn’t about you, I don’t know what this is about… but I know I don’t blame you or think less of you… you’re still the world to me, Aaron. You’re still my rock.”
“I know that. That’s why I’ll be here until you’re ready to let me in.”
It was the last time Reid had opened the door until the team showed up full force.
He knew Morgan and JJ had both shown up, he knew because Hotch took a walk after his phone let out a soft thrum of a text-message received on vibrate.
Morgan had bartered. His barter had failed, but that was his approach. JJ had cajoled, called this act unacceptable, he knew she was crying but that made him feel a little vindicated. He had come crying to her not so long ago, too. He was also denied the one thing to comfort him back then, the truth… did that make him a bad friend to feel that way? Even now? Now with things almost normal between them?
He reminded himself it was almost normal because he had been the one to cave. They still acted as if they were forced into it and the victims of it all. Well, maybe not that far, but close enough to still raise ire.
Prentiss had come by, but instead of trying to coax him out, she slipped something in. A Get-Well-Soon card. He had scowled at it, the thing had the mopiest looking cat he had ever seen, thing looked half-drowned… an aquarium behind it spilled out onto the floor, and a gold-fish in barely enough water to keep it covered seemed to lock eyes with the water well just out the window.
He wanted to be offended, he didn’t know why, he just knew he wanted to be angry. He wanted to lash out, but there was nowhere he could vent without it hurting someone who didn’t put him in that position.
The only person he might have been able to rage at had killed himself, fucking bastard took the easy way out. Had Reid known, he’d have volunteered his own services to aid him in his attempt.
Well, maybe he would… he was fairly sure his anger was bluffing him. He didn’t want to hurt people.
Spencer locked eyes with the pecan coffee-crumble pie, Garcia made the offer very clear that it would come in BEHIND her so he couldn’t force the door shut once pie was acquired… not like he’d be able to shove the door shut on Morgan, and he held no delusions that his friend would NOT kick down his door even if he was behind it. The man had tackled him before.
Reid shivered. That was an unwanted thought right now.
Suddenly, despite his off-put feelings about JJ and Prentiss, they and Garcia were the ones he was happiest to stand behind shyly.
He swallowed hard, he could feel eyes on him, and even though he quantitatively knew that everyone was looking at him- everyone but Hotch was staring at him- he felt the men’s eyes on him stronger. He walked backward to the wall.
“Stop… stop looking…” He said with as much authority as his shaky voice could muster. He slid down the wall as he lost more panicked breaths. A wild array of plum-purples, white and hot-pink in the form of Garcia’s floral print shirt marked his vision as she turned to face the others and block their sight of him. She looked over her shoulder and winked.
“I’ve got this.” She handed Morgan the pie, “Why don’t you set that in Reid’s kitchen. Show Rossi the way…?”
Morgan looked put off but complied. JJ chimed in, “I can help set the table.”
Prentiss followed behind her, “Oh, let me give you a hand…” She gave Hotch a meaningful look, he nodded.
“Garcia, may I?”
The bright-platinum blond floundered, “I… ah… sir?”
He bent toward Reid, offering him a hand to help him up. Reid looked at it as if unsure if the offering would bite. His shaky hand reached forward on it’s own accord.
“I think Spencer might need a minute. This might be a bit… too much.”
“Oh, right… right!” Garcia mentioned, flustered herself. Aaron escorted Spencer to his office, because he was sure the young man didn’t want to be escorted to his bedroom, least of all by a male visitor even if they were lovers.
“I’ll sit in with you.”
Spencer nodded. He found his comfy sitting-chair and, without relenting his clutch on Aaron’s shirt sleeve, guided them both over to it.
“Are you sure this is alright?”
“Nothing is alright… but… I… I have to desensitive eventually, and they aren’t going to leave unless they witness me eat, I suspect.”
“I agree with that assessment.”
“…I need to give my deposition.”
“You don’t have to right now.”
He shook his head, “Yes I do. I have to.” His hand clutched harder into the fabric of Hotch’s sleeve, fingernails dug into the skin below it.
Hotch locked eyes with the frantic man. “Spencer, why do you have to?”
“Because… because I can’t breathe… it’s crushing me… I… I can’t…”
Aaron knew a maverick move when he saw one, but his urge for contact to comfort Spencer was too much for him to turn off, even if he knew it was either going to go well or end in a fiery mess and full-out panic attack. Reid was already half-way around the bend as it were.
He pulled Spencer to his chest with a strong, but loose tug. If Reid wanted to resist, he’d easily break it, but the guidance to him was there. His fingers stroked through Reid’s hair, Reid’s arms crossed behind his back, nails raked the fabric of his jacket.
“Breathe deep for me.”
Reid let out a shaky nod as he attempted to comply. He closed his eyes, which might have been a mistake, he concentrated on the smells around him. The specific blend of cotton shirts with Hotch’s preferred fabric softener and detergent, and the dry-clean-only chemical fresh scent brought him to a calmer spot. He leaned deeper into Hotch’s shoulder, he felt so exhausted suddenly. He knew he hadn’t been sleeping well, but to think he could drift off like this? He had thought he’d be more afraid- and of Hotch no less…
His head went limp into the crook of Aaron’s neck.
“Spencer…?” Soft breaths were all the answer he received. He stroked tawny brown hair and just held him for a few minutes. He could lend his shoulder until the others were ready to sit down, but he knew the young man hadn’t slept well… he himself had bore silent witness to that as he waited behind the door through the night.
Twenty minutes later, Reid’s head snapped back up, “Huh… wha… how did I… Hotch?”
“You dozed off. The others are here, are you hungry? There’s dinner…”
“I… guess…” He stood up slowly, he realized that he had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms. He swallowed hard, “…I… I shouldn’t have kicked you out like that last time. I’m sorry.”
“Spencer, it wasn’t unexpected.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.” He rebuked.
“Then let me stay tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“…You can stay, but they can’t.”
“I’ll chase them out after dinner.”
Reid looked down a bit guiltily, “Maybe after we straighten up…?”
Aaron smiled a genuine, lopsided grin at the young man, “Well, you are a genius…”
Spencer smiled back and with that, the pair walked back into the living room. Aaron did his best not to ‘notice’ Spencer visibly tense upon Morgan’s hard gaze. He knew he was concerned, hell, they all were.
No one understood how the hell it happened let alone what the hell happened… well, all of it at least. Reid got roped into the situation and an hour and a half later looked like that.
“Um… Happy Thanksgiving?” Reid said meekly, he was unsure what he was supposed to say with all this unwanted attention on him. It made him wilt, he was too tired for this, and if he were completely honest, the eyes on him made him feel dirty again.
“Yeah, happy thanksgiving.” Morgan added, he broke eye-contact first. Rossi took a seat around the cramped table.
“Prentiss brought an aged scotch I’ve been dying to try. So sit down and let’s crack that open.”
Reid gave a faint smile, maybe that was why he came… well, that and he was probably worried… then again, it was aged scotch. Really, the lush didn’t need much more of an invitation and Prentiss knew it.
It was on his third scotch that the question broke from Rossi. Reid looked up, a bit more drunkenly than he had really planned to get… had he planned this at all, really?
“So what the hell happened in there? It sure went south fast…”
“…They didn’t take well to my commentary about their chances of getting out of there alive.”
“You spooked them?”
“…The oldest was about to blast through the hostages. I told him his best way to get his brothers out alive was to negotiate… he disagreed. That or he thought he’d have better luck negotiating with me directly…” He shuddered, the room felt frigid suddenly.
“His end game was to make sure they all went together.” Rossi stated, but it didn’t make Reid feel any better. Nauseous, though, he felt that.
Reid stood from the table and made a hard-line to the bathroom. He was grateful no one was in it as he immediately emptied the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. For a moment he wondered if that meant he’d have to eat again just to appease his teammates or if the leftover food would be enough to stop those questions.
When he came back out, he could hear Hotch chewing Rossi out, reminding him of promises for tact and threats of being cut off from certain years of scotch if he didn’t keep said promises. Prentiss quickly took hold of the bottle and made fast work in securing it as Rossi bit out a swear.
“We were all thinking it! You can’t blame me for just voicing the damned question!”
“He isn’t ready to talk about it yet, look at him, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in days.”
Reid wanted to make an analogy about a room full of profilers, but he didn’t have the heart to speak up.
“I think it would be best if you quietly packed it in.” Hotch locked eyes with the members of the room. “I’ll keep an eye on him, and tomorrow I’ll take his statement. He’s out of the office until he takes his psych eval, and that will be up to him when he schedules it.”
Garcia pouted, “…I’m bringing over snacks and coffee tomorrow.” She looked around the apartment, “And flowers. This place is too dull and sad right now. Some bright colors would help.”
TBC, once computer issues are resolved. Please R & R though, if I don't get feed-back there hardly seems to be a point to this.
Sequel to Breathe.
Hotch wanted a debriefing, Morgan wanted to make sure Reid was alright- he wasn’t, how could he be really? -Rossi wanted… he had no idea what Rossi wanted, it was more surprising than anything else that he showed up, he was usually more aloof than that. Prentiss, JJ and Garcia apparently had some strong urge to feed him and clean up his apartment or something to make his life easier… which baffled him further, sure JJ had that maternal instinct going full-force, but Prentiss? A cat was the high-end of her reliability and maternal instincts. She kind of avoided that. Garcia, well, she cooked when she fidgeted. More precisely, she baked.
He remembered from a long time ago just how good the cookies she had baked for Hotch had smelled. Sure, at the time he felt a little bit like chopped-liver, he had been shot in the leg but apparently heroically saving a life counted for a Dum-Dum lollipop.
He wondered if this earned him a Snickers fun-bar at least, or was this even more pathetic?
His hand hovered at the door. It was strange, his reasoning for opening the door was solely going to be based on if Garcia offended him by offering nothing or if she baked him something delicious. His entire ‘start’ of rehabilitation with the team would be based on something so fragile.
…She baked pecan coffee-crumble pie. Well played, Garcia, well played. To the surprise of the entirety of the BAU outside of Spencer’s door, he unlocked the deadbolt, the two chains, and opened the door to allow them in.
He hadn’t expected to see Rossi carry in a platter of other food, but it suddenly dawned on him, he was going to host Thanksgiving. He felt exhausted. He left the hospital, against doctors’ recommendations, three hours after his arrival.
Somehow, he managed to convince Hotch- no, probably Aaron- to take him home. That probably made him into a bit of a jerk, he had played to the man’s need to control the environment to feel he was adequately protected… and then succinctly kicked him out of his apartment upon settling in.
His lover had tried, admirably so, to deflect- but once Spencer delivered the hard blow about how he needed to take a shower and the last thing he wanted to see when he was naked right now was another man hovering… well, he was rewarded with the door softly clicking shut and promises that he’d come back to check on him within the hour. That was when Aaron learned that Spencer had long ago invested in two chain locks that he hadn’t gotten around to installing… well, until just before he took a shower.
Then he took a three hour long steaming hot shower. The shower actually ran for five hours, but the hot water gave out long before he completed his ritualistic purging of skin cells.
The first panic attack after leaving the hospital came immediately after the shower. For a moment, and some genius he was for that, he forgot about how in his mirrored reflection, he was male with male anatomy… and he hadn’t lied when he said that he didn’t want to see a male body when he got out of the shower. A naked one had been worse. His own phallus had sent him into chest spasms and left him reeling upon the floor for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes he was sure he was only partially conscious for at best.
It had been a week, though, and Reid was running out of supplies, and the others were running out of patience for his own denial. Hell, he knew Hotch had staked out his door the first day, he heard him pound periodically, that was what made him wake up from the bathroom floor- actually.
He fell asleep leaning against the door, just listening to Aaron as he pleaded with him- Hotch of all people pleading it was laudable- to undo the chains and let him in. The man just kept gently talking to him as he fell asleep blocking the light from the bottom of the door. Aaron seemed content with that, though, because the next day after he came back from the BAU, he did the same thing. He knocked on the door, he softly pleaded for Reid to say anything to him- that if he didn’t he’d break down the door…
So Reid had told him he was sore and resting.
And he had rested, just before the door as he listened to Hotch talk to him, he told him about the youngest brother. The youngest of four, found dead in his private cell, bled out after he used a bed leg to impale himself with.
Reid couldn’t muster the energy to fake an empathetic response.
“I hope it hurt like hell.”
He knew that had shocked Hotch, Reid was supposed to be forgiving- wasn’t he? It made Reid unlock the deadbolt and peer through the double-chained door to lock eyes with Hotch. He didn’t think it was possible for the man to look more tired than he felt… but he was as red-eyed as Reid. Though, Reid’s eyes were puffier- crying and all…
He let Hotch curl his fingers around the door and touched his fingertips with his hand. He knew Hotch could feel them shaking. This was Hotch, the one man who he had never had a problem with touching before, and even this was the edge of his limits.
“I want to shut the door now.” He said, his own voice faint, he could feel his chest tighten. Was it because Hotch looked so hurt or because he felt so afraid? And of what? The one man who he counted on most time and again? Hotch took his hand from the door and gave a firm, authoritative nod.
“Spencer- I’m not leaving.”
“I never thought you were.” He said, he leaned back down the side of the door. His chest burned. He reached a hand back and clicked the lock back into place. Hotch let out a slow breath.
“I still love you, Spencer.”
“…I still love you, Aaron.” The younger man replied, his tone only changing from the panicked pitches of breath he lost. “This isn’t about you, I don’t know what this is about… but I know I don’t blame you or think less of you… you’re still the world to me, Aaron. You’re still my rock.”
“I know that. That’s why I’ll be here until you’re ready to let me in.”
It was the last time Reid had opened the door until the team showed up full force.
He knew Morgan and JJ had both shown up, he knew because Hotch took a walk after his phone let out a soft thrum of a text-message received on vibrate.
Morgan had bartered. His barter had failed, but that was his approach. JJ had cajoled, called this act unacceptable, he knew she was crying but that made him feel a little vindicated. He had come crying to her not so long ago, too. He was also denied the one thing to comfort him back then, the truth… did that make him a bad friend to feel that way? Even now? Now with things almost normal between them?
He reminded himself it was almost normal because he had been the one to cave. They still acted as if they were forced into it and the victims of it all. Well, maybe not that far, but close enough to still raise ire.
Prentiss had come by, but instead of trying to coax him out, she slipped something in. A Get-Well-Soon card. He had scowled at it, the thing had the mopiest looking cat he had ever seen, thing looked half-drowned… an aquarium behind it spilled out onto the floor, and a gold-fish in barely enough water to keep it covered seemed to lock eyes with the water well just out the window.
He wanted to be offended, he didn’t know why, he just knew he wanted to be angry. He wanted to lash out, but there was nowhere he could vent without it hurting someone who didn’t put him in that position.
The only person he might have been able to rage at had killed himself, fucking bastard took the easy way out. Had Reid known, he’d have volunteered his own services to aid him in his attempt.
Well, maybe he would… he was fairly sure his anger was bluffing him. He didn’t want to hurt people.
Spencer locked eyes with the pecan coffee-crumble pie, Garcia made the offer very clear that it would come in BEHIND her so he couldn’t force the door shut once pie was acquired… not like he’d be able to shove the door shut on Morgan, and he held no delusions that his friend would NOT kick down his door even if he was behind it. The man had tackled him before.
Reid shivered. That was an unwanted thought right now.
Suddenly, despite his off-put feelings about JJ and Prentiss, they and Garcia were the ones he was happiest to stand behind shyly.
He swallowed hard, he could feel eyes on him, and even though he quantitatively knew that everyone was looking at him- everyone but Hotch was staring at him- he felt the men’s eyes on him stronger. He walked backward to the wall.
“Stop… stop looking…” He said with as much authority as his shaky voice could muster. He slid down the wall as he lost more panicked breaths. A wild array of plum-purples, white and hot-pink in the form of Garcia’s floral print shirt marked his vision as she turned to face the others and block their sight of him. She looked over her shoulder and winked.
“I’ve got this.” She handed Morgan the pie, “Why don’t you set that in Reid’s kitchen. Show Rossi the way…?”
Morgan looked put off but complied. JJ chimed in, “I can help set the table.”
Prentiss followed behind her, “Oh, let me give you a hand…” She gave Hotch a meaningful look, he nodded.
“Garcia, may I?”
The bright-platinum blond floundered, “I… ah… sir?”
He bent toward Reid, offering him a hand to help him up. Reid looked at it as if unsure if the offering would bite. His shaky hand reached forward on it’s own accord.
“I think Spencer might need a minute. This might be a bit… too much.”
“Oh, right… right!” Garcia mentioned, flustered herself. Aaron escorted Spencer to his office, because he was sure the young man didn’t want to be escorted to his bedroom, least of all by a male visitor even if they were lovers.
“I’ll sit in with you.”
Spencer nodded. He found his comfy sitting-chair and, without relenting his clutch on Aaron’s shirt sleeve, guided them both over to it.
“Are you sure this is alright?”
“Nothing is alright… but… I… I have to desensitive eventually, and they aren’t going to leave unless they witness me eat, I suspect.”
“I agree with that assessment.”
“…I need to give my deposition.”
“You don’t have to right now.”
He shook his head, “Yes I do. I have to.” His hand clutched harder into the fabric of Hotch’s sleeve, fingernails dug into the skin below it.
Hotch locked eyes with the frantic man. “Spencer, why do you have to?”
“Because… because I can’t breathe… it’s crushing me… I… I can’t…”
Aaron knew a maverick move when he saw one, but his urge for contact to comfort Spencer was too much for him to turn off, even if he knew it was either going to go well or end in a fiery mess and full-out panic attack. Reid was already half-way around the bend as it were.
He pulled Spencer to his chest with a strong, but loose tug. If Reid wanted to resist, he’d easily break it, but the guidance to him was there. His fingers stroked through Reid’s hair, Reid’s arms crossed behind his back, nails raked the fabric of his jacket.
“Breathe deep for me.”
Reid let out a shaky nod as he attempted to comply. He closed his eyes, which might have been a mistake, he concentrated on the smells around him. The specific blend of cotton shirts with Hotch’s preferred fabric softener and detergent, and the dry-clean-only chemical fresh scent brought him to a calmer spot. He leaned deeper into Hotch’s shoulder, he felt so exhausted suddenly. He knew he hadn’t been sleeping well, but to think he could drift off like this? He had thought he’d be more afraid- and of Hotch no less…
His head went limp into the crook of Aaron’s neck.
“Spencer…?” Soft breaths were all the answer he received. He stroked tawny brown hair and just held him for a few minutes. He could lend his shoulder until the others were ready to sit down, but he knew the young man hadn’t slept well… he himself had bore silent witness to that as he waited behind the door through the night.
Twenty minutes later, Reid’s head snapped back up, “Huh… wha… how did I… Hotch?”
“You dozed off. The others are here, are you hungry? There’s dinner…”
“I… guess…” He stood up slowly, he realized that he had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms. He swallowed hard, “…I… I shouldn’t have kicked you out like that last time. I’m sorry.”
“Spencer, it wasn’t unexpected.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.” He rebuked.
“Then let me stay tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“…You can stay, but they can’t.”
“I’ll chase them out after dinner.”
Reid looked down a bit guiltily, “Maybe after we straighten up…?”
Aaron smiled a genuine, lopsided grin at the young man, “Well, you are a genius…”
Spencer smiled back and with that, the pair walked back into the living room. Aaron did his best not to ‘notice’ Spencer visibly tense upon Morgan’s hard gaze. He knew he was concerned, hell, they all were.
No one understood how the hell it happened let alone what the hell happened… well, all of it at least. Reid got roped into the situation and an hour and a half later looked like that.
“Um… Happy Thanksgiving?” Reid said meekly, he was unsure what he was supposed to say with all this unwanted attention on him. It made him wilt, he was too tired for this, and if he were completely honest, the eyes on him made him feel dirty again.
“Yeah, happy thanksgiving.” Morgan added, he broke eye-contact first. Rossi took a seat around the cramped table.
“Prentiss brought an aged scotch I’ve been dying to try. So sit down and let’s crack that open.”
Reid gave a faint smile, maybe that was why he came… well, that and he was probably worried… then again, it was aged scotch. Really, the lush didn’t need much more of an invitation and Prentiss knew it.
It was on his third scotch that the question broke from Rossi. Reid looked up, a bit more drunkenly than he had really planned to get… had he planned this at all, really?
“So what the hell happened in there? It sure went south fast…”
“…They didn’t take well to my commentary about their chances of getting out of there alive.”
“You spooked them?”
“…The oldest was about to blast through the hostages. I told him his best way to get his brothers out alive was to negotiate… he disagreed. That or he thought he’d have better luck negotiating with me directly…” He shuddered, the room felt frigid suddenly.
“His end game was to make sure they all went together.” Rossi stated, but it didn’t make Reid feel any better. Nauseous, though, he felt that.
Reid stood from the table and made a hard-line to the bathroom. He was grateful no one was in it as he immediately emptied the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. For a moment he wondered if that meant he’d have to eat again just to appease his teammates or if the leftover food would be enough to stop those questions.
When he came back out, he could hear Hotch chewing Rossi out, reminding him of promises for tact and threats of being cut off from certain years of scotch if he didn’t keep said promises. Prentiss quickly took hold of the bottle and made fast work in securing it as Rossi bit out a swear.
“We were all thinking it! You can’t blame me for just voicing the damned question!”
“He isn’t ready to talk about it yet, look at him, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in days.”
Reid wanted to make an analogy about a room full of profilers, but he didn’t have the heart to speak up.
“I think it would be best if you quietly packed it in.” Hotch locked eyes with the members of the room. “I’ll keep an eye on him, and tomorrow I’ll take his statement. He’s out of the office until he takes his psych eval, and that will be up to him when he schedules it.”
Garcia pouted, “…I’m bringing over snacks and coffee tomorrow.” She looked around the apartment, “And flowers. This place is too dull and sad right now. Some bright colors would help.”
TBC, once computer issues are resolved. Please R & R though, if I don't get feed-back there hardly seems to be a point to this.
Sequel to Breathe.