Lockdown

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

01/07/2019. 06:32 hours. Bethesda General Hospital, Virginia.

Tara had known that Spencer was beginning to rouse from his drug-induced sleep when his heart rate crept up and his eyes darted back and forth behind his bruised, closed lids. A small whimper sounded from his lips, and his brow creased. A stray tear rolled down the side of his face, getting lost in the elastic holding the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. His breaths stuttered as they quickened. His bottom lip quivered as more tears crept between his lashes. His fingers clenched into fists, and a raw, choked sob erupted from the back of his throat. Tara reached for his right hand and clasped it firmly between both of hers. His wrists pulled weakly against the restraints.

"Shh, Spencer. It's okay," soothed Tara, her thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand. Spencer shook his head, unable to open his eyes and face the world.

"No..." Spencer hiccupped, his voice distorted by the mask. "How can it be? This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't supposed to happen?" Tara pursed her lips in concern.

"I wasn't supposed to survive! I was meant to die!" Spencer's entire body trembled with wracked sobs, tears cascading down his face.

"Reid, you can't mean that. There's a lot of people out there who love you. It would destroy so many people if you were to leave." Spencer let out a wet snort.

"Yeah, like, who? The Bureau couldn't give a shit. They knew what I went through and still sent me into a prison where I was raped three times! And I couldn't do anything to stop them! I'm weak! Pathetic! People just love tying me up and fucking me over! I couldn't even manage to fucking kill myself, and here I am tied up again! I just want it to go away. I don't want to be here anymore." Spencer's howl of despair shattered Tara's heart and brought tears to her own eyes.

"Spencer, I have to ask you something, and I can only be direct about it... If you were to get out of these restraints, would you try to end your life again?"

"Of course I fucking would! And I would take myself where none of you will find me."

"Shit, Spencer. This is really important. They're taking you to a psychiatric facility. They're going to give you ECT." Spencer creaked open his red-rimmed, puffy eyes and turned his head to look at Tara. For a fleeting moment, there was a flash of terror in his bloodshot, hazel eyes, though it was quickly replaced by a cold hardness.

"I hope it fucking kills me. Better yet, put a bullet between my eyes. Fast and efficient, and I'm sure you'd love it." Tara's mouth gaped in horror and her hand pulled away.

"Spencer! What the hell makes you think that?"

"I've seen the way you all look at me since my accident. I don't need your pity. I know you all see me as some fragile burden, so just fucking end it and you'll all be better off." Tara shakily came to her feet and punched the nurse call button on the wall. She had always been able to compartmentalise, but the rapid change in emotions in her colleague was frankly terrifying. His rage was directed at himself, but still radiated to those around him. The tears that continued to fall were both of pain and anger. Tara was unable to help the pang of hurt in her heart. No one had treated him any differently, had they? Spencer's neck arched back into the pillow, his veins and muscles cording through his pale skin. An ear-piercing scream tore from his throat. Tara leaned over the bed and lifted Spencer into a hug as far as his restraints would allow. He nestled his tear-sodden face into the crook between her neck and shoulder, his hot breaths panting against the mask that pressed into her faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Her left hand supported his upper back whilst the other gently cupped the back of his head, her dark fingers carding through his tangled curls.