Jet Lag

Chapter 6: 190 a second

The air feels like a tight shirt: devoid of things except an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia and heat.

"He's got a fever."

Fever. Rossi throws his penny in. "He could be hypothermic."

"So cold his body is turning into a furnace to sustain life." A drowsy Reid clarifies. All pain medicine had been given to Reid. Since Hotch has stayed unconscious and, for the most part, pain-free, he hadn't been given anything they couldn't just lay across his lap.

"I'd start a fire to help if all the damn wood wasn't wet," Morgan adds kicking at one of the logs that they had used as a chair.

Morgan's anger seemed to lose and fixated on anything and anyone that got, even remotely, in his way.

"He's so skinny," Emily whispers pulling Hotch closer in a bleak attempt to shield his limp body from the wind.

Rossi looks up from Reid for only a moment. "Reid?" He knows that she's referring to Hotch but the brunette has hardly spoken a word since Hotch decided to pass out on them.

She doesn't answer directly to his question. "Hasn't anyone looked after him? You know how he is."

Morgan bites first in his special way. "Yeah well, you know how he is too. Thick." Morgan has this special way of caring for people but seeming like a pompous asshole while doing it. "Ask him how he is and he'll tell you about soccer practice. Ask him what he ate for the day and he'll detour you with what everyone else hasn't eaten." Morgan is pacing. His go-to activity when his stress level is high. When he is on the edge of freaking out and lashing out. "I'm gonna-" Morgan throws his arms in the direction of the trees. "Pee." He throws the word around like venom. Stupid team. Stupid jet. Fucking plane crash.

A small voice croaks from the spot in which he's laying," 80% of plane crashes happen within 3 of takeoff or 8 minutes of landing."

"Rossi?" Emily's voice speaks out and he can hear her confusion. "Aaron. Aaron, no." She lifts the larger man up and cries out as his body begins to convulse. "Rossi!"

They'd taken very simple CPR classes. He doesn't even pay attention to the classes anymore.

"Lean his head back."

They look up to find Reid looking sideways at them. He's standing, on his own, swaying slightly and looking paler than death.

Emily takes Hotch's neck and pulls it up.

"He's having a seizure. His temperature is too high."

Reid turns away from them and looks at the black dot coming closer and closer. "They won't get here in time."

Emily isn't sure where to put her hands. You're not supposed to hold people down, at least she thinks. "What? What do you mean?"

Reid just keeps looking up. His red nose is a pale contrast to his light brown hair all over his head. "They probably won't see us. Even if they do, he's as good as dead. People die. 100,000,000."

"What?"

"100,000,000 people die every year. 273,973 a day. 11,416 an hour and 190 every second." Reid answers as if she's the one not making sense.

Emily, distracted by Reid's odd death speech, looks over when Rossi mumbles:

"He's not breathing."

Sorry I haven't updated! I hope you like it and don't worry... Hotchniss is coming. It's coming soon.
-S.H.