The Shadows We Dance With

Ch37: Fragile Threads

Penelope Garcia practically flew out of the car as it screeched to a stop in front of the hospital. Her mind was a whirl of panic and fear, the only thought driving her forward being Spencer's safety. She rushed through the sliding glass doors, her heart pounding in her chest as she approached the front desk.

"Spencer Reid, I need to see Spencer Reid," she blurted out, her voice tinged with desperation. The woman behind the desk looked up, her expression one of mild concern as she took in Garcia's frantic appearance.

"Ma'am, I need you to calm down," the woman said, her tone professional but firm. "We have procedures—"

"Please," Garcia cut her off, her voice breaking. "He's my friend, he's... he's everything. I need to know he's okay."

The woman hesitated, glancing at her computer before looking back at Garcia. "I can't give you any information unless you're family. I'm sorry."

Garcia felt a wave of helplessness crash over her, her hands shaking as she clutched her laptop bag to her chest. She opened her mouth to plead again, but before she could say anything, the sliding doors opened behind her, and the rest of the team arrived.

Hotch led the way, his stride purposeful as he marched up to the desk, flashing his badge in one swift motion. "Aaron Hotchner, FBI. I need to know the status of Dr. Spencer Reid."

The nurse's demeanor shifted immediately. She took one look at Hotch's bloodstained shirt and grim expression, and her hands flew to her keyboard. After a moment that felt like an eternity, she looked back up at him with a more sympathetic expression.

"They're still running tests on Dr. Reid," she said softly. "It might be a while before we have any updates. Please, make yourselves comfortable in the waiting room. I'll have a doctor come out as soon as there's any news."

Hotch let out a slow, controlled breath, nodding his thanks. "We appreciate it."

He turned to the team, guiding them toward the small waiting room just down the hall. Garcia followed in a daze, her mind struggling to process the nurse's words. Tests. What kind of tests? Her thoughts swirled with anxiety as she took a seat, her eyes flicking between the faces of her teammates.

Hotch addressed the team, his voice steady but laced with exhaustion. "The nurse says they're still running tests on Spencer. We might be here for a while."

The team exchanged knowing looks, the gravity of the situation settling over them like a heavy blanket. They knew what kind of tests were being done. It was procedure in cases like this. But knowing didn't make it any easier.

Garcia's eyes darted between them, her confusion growing. "What kind of tests?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

No one answered at first. It was Emily who finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle, as if she didn't want to say the words out loud. "They're... they're running a rape kit, Penelope."

Garcia's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening with horror. "No," she whispered, shaking her head as if denying it could make it untrue. "No, not Spencer..."

Derek turned on his heel, pacing back and forth in a futile attempt to burn off the anger and frustration boiling inside him. Emily dropped into one of the uncomfortable chairs, burying her face in her hands, while Rossi sat beside her, rubbing her back in a comforting gesture, though his own expression was no less stricken.

Garcia's gaze followed Derek as he paced, her heart breaking for him, for Spencer, for all of them. She stood and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Derek in a tight hug. He froze for a moment before his arms came up to hold her, his own tears mingling with hers as they stood there, holding on to each other in the midst of the storm.