come down soon | s. reid

viii ~ liar

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eight:
liar

❝ One can be absolutely truthful and sincere even though admittedly the most outrageous liar. Fiction and invention are of the very fabric of life. ❞
—Henry Miller

𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 4, 𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚍𝚎 1 (cont.)

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    AS SOON AS SCOUT TURNED TO HOTCH to tell him her suspicions regarding the EMT, he collapsed on the hospital floor. The nurses scrambled to treat him and Scout called Morgan to update him on everything that had happened since leaving Federal Plaza. She could hear him getting in the car before she even hung up.

    She paced the waiting room but stopped as soon as she saw Morgan. "Scout," he called. "How is he?"

     She shook her head and grabbed his arm. "They won't let me see him. But I need to talk to you."

     Morgan didn't listen. He moved past Scout towards the reception desk. "Doc. FBI. How's Aaron Hotchner?"

     "He's got acute acoustic trauma in his right ear," the doctor answered, "And I pulled shrapnel from his leg."

     A commotion sounded down the hall, and a nurse yelled "Just lay down. Sir!" The doctor, Morgan, and Scout ran to Hotch's room to find him upright, pulling his IV out, and donning a blue hospital gown.

     "Agent Hotchner, lie down," the doctor instructed, holding his hands out placatingly.

     "Doctor, I'm all right," Hotch insisted. He spun around the room, fending off the nurses.

     Morgan stepped forward. "Hotch, stop it. Just calm down."

     Scout turned to the doctor, knowing that Hotch was too stubborn and too dedicated to his work to back down. "We've got it," she said apologetically.

     Hotch's gaze finally met Morgan's. "Morgan, where's Kate?"

     "She's in surgery," Morgan explained.

     One of the nurses placed a hand on Hotch's shoulder, but he shook her off defensively. "Where are my clothes, please?!"

     "Hotch," Scout said, her tone as soothing and empathetic as she could make it as if she were comforting a child throwing a tantrum. "Your go-bag is on its way."

     "Has anything happened since the first blast?" Hotch asked, running a hand through his hair and wincing.

     Morgan shook his head. "Nothing."

     "Sam?"

     "He's dead."

     "The profile's wrong," Scout said. Hotch and Morgan stared at her expectantly. She continued, fleshing out the thoughts that had been buzzing around her head all night. "It's all been a diversion: the death card to open communication, the suicide by cop to think it's over, Sam being on the inside."

     She watched the gears turn in Hotch's mind. "Morgan, did you ever find Sam's cell phone?"

     Morgan nodded. "Yes."

     "Did he call 911?"

     "No," Morgan said. "He dialed one number 6 times every few minutes."

     "It was probably a disposable cell," Scout added, the pieces of the puzzle flying together with terrifying clarity. "And if he didn't have a secondary device to detonate, there's only one reason that he stayed with us."