How Dare You [ReidxReader] - 2nd Edition

(29) Closer

Spencer wants to stay at the hospital with you the whole night. After some back and forth, however, you talk him into going home and returning in the morning with some fresh clothes for you. You give him the key to your apartment and ask him to send a unit to where you dropped your phone to hopefully have it recovered.

When the nurse comes in to give you another dose of painkillers, you refuse. You want to be properly awake in the morning, not as dazed as you are now. She eventually agrees on it, maybe because she heard in your tone that you will otherwise rip out the vein catheter.

The small lamp on the bedside table is the only source of light. They closed the curtains to the hallway so that only a small amount of light shines into the room. You carefully palpate your bandaged hand. There is some swelling around where the nail penetrated it, but the wound is already closing. Nevertheless, it will leave a scar. You exhale loudly and sink back into the pillow.

Your head hurts, more than your hand actually. The doctor told you that you don't have a concussion, only nasty bruises and swelling around your cheek. You also have to be careful with what you drink since you bit your tongue really hard.

Now that the morphine starts to wear off, your thoughts start to race again. She knew about your case. She knew about Doyle. How are these two things connected? Did Doyle send her or did somebody else?

Trying to get comfortable in the hospital bed, you ponder about it until you slip into a light sleep.

ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ

You gasp when someone takes your wrist.

Your eyes shoot open, but you have to blink repeatedly to gain orientation.

"Hey, hey. It's me."

Spencer's voice makes you smile.

You rub your eyes and then carefully sit up.

"What time is it?" You mumble.

"Five-Thirty."

"What are you doing here?"

You slowly turn to him; he's standing next to the bed.

"I brought you clothes." He lifts the bag. "And I..." He puts it down on the chair nearby.

"Couldn't sleep?" You ask him.

"Yeah." He nods, eyes darting over your bruised face.

You sigh. Not because you're annoyed but because you know the guilty look in his eye all too well. Isaacs displayed it ever since...

You lift the blanket: "Come here."

A smile spreads on his face and he kicks his shoes off.

He scoots up to you and you lay your head on his chest. He puts his arm around you, careful not to touch your injured spots.

"How did you even get in here?" You whisper.

"I'm literally an FBI agent."

You laugh even though it hurts your face.

After a pause, you add: "Doc will be here in an hour."

"Okay." Spencer kisses the top of your head. "Try to sleep."

Huddled up against him, enjoying the warmth, you just hum and close your eyes.

You don't really sleep but lying here with Spencer makes you feel more rested than the drug-induced unconsciousness did.