Chapter 4

107 1 1
                                    

18/07/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 15:53 hours.

Penelope had volunteered to take vigil by the unconscious man's side. She had equipped herself with her laptop, ready to assist the team in any way. Unfortunately, even when one of the team was hospitalised, serial killers did not stop. Penelope cast an eye over Spencer's sleeping form as her laptop powered to life. She watched his chest gently rise and fall with each gush of oxygen being forced into his battered lungs. The EKG steadily bleeped in time with his heart. His pale skin had a sheen to it that glistened under the dim light above the head board. Penelope felt a tug on her heart as she gazed fondly at his ashen face. Shadows clung to the hollows of his cheekbones. The blue plastic buckle and neoprene strap holding the ventilator tube in place obscured the lower half of his face. The man before her had survived so much before he had even reached thirty-five. He had been kidnapped and forcibly drugged, leading to an addiction and the following brutal withdrawal. He had been shot in the knee by an unsub, requiring multiple surgeries and physical therapy just to be able to walk again. He contracted anthrax whilst trying to find the cure. He went head to head in a battle of wills with a psychopathic hit woman who went on to frame him for murder. Penelope's skin bristled with a rare hatred. He survived being incarcerated in Millburn Correctional Facility for three months. He came out of that... Different. Underneath Spencer's new rugged and hardened shell, he was still the same nerdy doctor who loved Doctor Who and Star Trek. Yet, he had an edge to his tone of voice. He snapped back at people, his superiors. Penelope recalled the day Linda Barnes, FBI's assistant director of national security, had tried to join them in the field.

Spencer stood toe to toe with Linda Barnes, his hazel eyes boring holes into her head.

"You're wrong. Emily Prentiss is not a poor leader. She defined what a unit chief should be. I'm not going to stand here and let you destroy her career like this. If you're going, I'm not." It was hard to distinguish who wanted to kill who first. Fury crackled around Linda and Spencer had a blazing, almost murderous, glint in his eye, his lips pursed.

Spencer had always hated confrontation, most likely stemmed from the years of bullying he endured as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas high school, but his job and his life required him to develop a shield, a fierce protectiveness for the people he loved and a willingness to stand up to someone of superiority. Penelope sighed as she drank in how fragile he looked in the bed, and yet he had a peaceful aura about him, as though he was having the best night sleep he had had in months. Penelope chuckled to herself. Knowing Spencer, it probably was. He had a propensity for only sleeping a few hours a night thanks to his enormous book collection and his Doctor Who marathons. Penelope curled her fingers around Spencer's cold hand, the cannula pressing into her palm and gave his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

"I'm right here, baby boy."

18/07/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Quantico. 21:08 hours.

JJ had opted to take the second shift from Penelope. She folded her legs underneath her in the chair, a stack of books on the bedside unit. She reached up and slid the first book from the pile, dropping it into her lap with a soft thud. JJ smiled at the book- The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle. It held a very special place in Spencer's heart. JJ's blue eyes flicked up from the book to the unconscious man beside her.

"So, the doctor says that we should still talk to you about anything and everything. He says you can still hear us. I know if you could, you'd be spouting all kinds of facts to us about the human consciousness. Henry and Michael are itching to see their godfather. I had to say you were poorly right now, but that you would see them when you get better. I'm sure they're home right now making you cards and gifts and covering my house in glitter." JJ gave a small laugh as she slowly opened the book to the first page. She could tell the book was well loved by the small creases in the pages. As she began to read, she noticed a small tear leak from the corner of Spencer's good eye and trickle over his cheek, getting lost in his hair that splayed across the pillow. The bleeping of the heart monitor quickened slightly. A smile tugged at the corners of JJ's mouth. Spencer could hear her. JJ continued reading, the hissing of the ventilator and bleeping of the EKG providing a soothing symphony, reminding her that Spencer survived.

19/07/2017. St Andrew's Hospital, Virginia. 09:05 hours.

The BAU team had a day off at last from cases. JJ was having some much needed time with Will and her boys. Matt was having a day out at the park with his four children and Christie. Penelope, Tara and Emily were having some 'girl time' which usually meant wine and shoe shopping. David was visiting his daughter Joy and his grandson. Luke offered to spend some time keeping Spencer company. He knew that all conversations would be one sided but it would have been better than sitting in his apartment alone with Roxy, his Belgian Shepherd, spread out across the sofa, snoring. Luke leaned back in the chair, his muscular legs crossed. He was playing a game of some sort on his cell phone. He was about to beat his highest score when he noticed a twitch from the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it was merely a figment of his imagination. Then he witnessed another. Spencer's long fingers were weakly grasping at the blanket and his eyes were squeezed tight. Luke sat forward in alarm and quickly punched the orange button on the wall. Spencer continued to writhe, his features contorted in agony. The EKG sounded- his heart rate was racing to an alarming level. Dr Harper entered, his stethoscope draped around his neck. He frowned at the monitors.

"Increase the sedation. It's too soon for him to come out of the coma. Let's get another round of Ceftazadime and Avibactam going. Let's also increase the Morphine by a milligram," directed Dr Harper to the nurse. The nurse nodded, swiftly moving into action. She disconnected the bags to the right of Spencer and reattached new ones. Dr Harper handed her a newly prepared syringe of sedative which was replaced in the machine with a gentle click. Finally, a new syringe was pressed into the cannula and the clear contents pressed through. Luke, feeling somewhat helpless, grasped Spencer's hand in both of his large, rough hands and slid to his knees on the ground.

"Calm down, Reid. You're okay. It's just too soon to wake up, buddy. Go back to sleep. It's all good. I'm here so you're not alone." Luke felt Spencer's fingers slacken and relax whilst still encased in his own warm hands. Spencer's face softened, sweat beading his forehead. The nurse pressed a thermometer into Spencer's ear.

"108 degrees," she responded. Dr Harper's mouth formed a grim line.

"Give him a gram of Tylenol and I think we should get some ice packs to bring his fever down quicker." The nurse nodded and turned on a dime to retrieve the requested medication and ice packs. Dr Harper noted Luke's concerned expression, "He has a fever. The infection is still ravaging his body and he's too weak to fight it right now. I don't know why he was coming out of the sedation but we've put him back under. He needs to remain in the coma and on the ventilator for several more days." Luke could only nod in response. The nurse returned with ice packs in her hands. Dr Harper gently lifted Spencer's limp head and tucked an ice pack under his neck before resting his head back on the pillow. More packs were pressed into Spencer's sides. The nurse clicked the new syringe into the cannula and pressed down on the plunger to force the thick white solution into his veins. Once done, she flicked back the blankets covering Spencer's legs to check his catheter.

"Urine is clear, Dr Harper. Should I push some more fluids?"

"Yes, please." Dr Harper turned to Luke, "Keep talking to him, remind him that he's safe. Read to him, anything." Luke swallowed hard and nodded, sliding himself back into the chair. An icon was bobbing on his phone screen alerting him that he had lost his game.

"Jesus, Reid. You sure like scaring us." Luke sighed, realising he would have to start his game all over again.

Review

Jump:
Share: Email . Facebook . Twitter
Story: Follow  Favorite
Author: Follow  Favorite
Contrast: Dark . Light
Font: Small . Medium . Large . XL

Twitter . Help . Sign Up . Cookies . Privacy . Terms of Service

The Unfortunate RideWhere stories live. Discover now