Hidden // Spencer Reid

It Just Happened

"Love is not a victory march; it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." - Rufus Wainright, Hallelujah

Spencer takes my hand, and helps me hoist myself out of my bed-- with pain shooting down my leg-- until I plop down into the austere wheelchair.

It's been a week since Jessica was forcefully taken from my hospital room, and it so happens that she claimed-- on the phone-- to be fine.

Of course, after Spencer takes me home, that'll be who I call next.

Despite the fact that I honestly feel like I've been dropped off the Eiffel Tower, I'm looking forward to wheeling myself into my own house.

Spencer grabs the handles on the back of the wheelchair. "No, I got it," I assure him, attempting to wave off his hands.

He stays exactly where he is. "Lena, you broke your leg, and you--you had a very close brush with death, and you're pregnant. I will be pushing you out of the hospital."

I roll my eyes and brush my hands past the bump in my stomach, and try to look back at him. "Spencer, it all happened to me. You don't have to list what I've been through. Besides, I'm not at a close brush with death, my leg has been repaired, and, yes, I'm pregnant but that doesn't mean I've lost the ability to control my arms. Let me push myself out."

"No."

I have never known Spencer to be so steadfast. I didn't even feel a strong need to push myself out there; I just sort of wanted to be in control.

"Fine, Spencer. Knock yourself out."

I can hear a pleased, almost smug sigh behind me as he starts to push me along. At first, I am not ready for the sudden movement, and I lurch forward when he stops the wheelchair. "S-sorry," he stutters.

"Just keep going Spencer. I don't plan on being in the hospital for the rest of my life," I mutter, adjusting my position in the wheelchair.

He wheels me into an elevator, and eventually, out of the hospital, where I see Jennifer, Emily, and, surprisingly, Derek waiting for me. "Hi, guys," I say awkwardly, secretly begging to have a moment to myself.

Refusing to believe they came here out of the goodness of their hearts, I glance at Spencer. When he helps me into the car, I whisper, "What are they even doing here?"

He looks embarrassed ever so slightly. "I asked someone to bring a vehicle here, and I guess they all decided on coming," he whispers back.

"Then how did you get here before?" I hiss, as he unnecessarily buckles my seatbelt for me.

"In a sedan," he explains, finally climbing into the passenger driver's seat.

As the SUV begins to exit the parking lot, Jennifer speaks up to break the silence. "So, Lena, I heard Garcia is really interested in talking to you."

I can almost feel my heart rate pick up. "The matter is none of her concern," I choke out, not daring to turn around.

"What matter?"

"It's none of your concern either, I suppose," Spencer says meekly, glancing sideways at me as if for assurance.

"Oh, it's alright, I understand," she smiles politely, but it actually seems as if she means it.

Derek clears his throat, and I wince internally. "Is it my concern?"

My hands grip the handle of my seat until my knuckles turn white-- but then I start to feel bad. With a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside of me, I snap, "Can you just shut up?"