Evolution, a Spencer Reid/Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 58. Phone Games

“Well, son, let’s see how you’re doin’ this morning.”

The old doctor had collared an orderly along the way to room 312. Now he released Hotch’s leg from the sling that had kept it elevated. With gentle, sure hands, he probed the knee. Satisfied that the swelling was much reduced… nearly gone in fact…he nodded at the orderly.

“Time to get this boy on his feet.”

Hotch turned a wary eye on the assistant. He was a large man. Even in loose-fitting, pale blue scrubs, there was evident muscle. Hotch didn’t like being manhandled. Didn’t matter if it was friendly handling. The orderly slipped careful hands around the patient’s ribcage and was about to tighten his grip, preparatory to lifting him, when the doctor held up his hand.

“Wait. Maybe he’d like to try on his own.” He motioned the aid to step back. With an understanding smile, he nodded at Hotch. “Take it slow. Sit on the edge of the bed for a minute.”

After a couple of days lying prone, Hotch’s head was swimming as he scrambled to get his feet on the floor. It took him by surprise.

“Lean forward a bit, son. Put your head down. It’ll pass.”

Hotch did as he was told and felt the sensation recede.

“Now stand up and try to keep most of your weight on your good leg at first.” The doctor motioned the orderly closer. He had a feeling this patient would always overdo and try to cover any weakness with a brave front. He was right.

Hotch pushed himself up, balancing on his left leg and promptly tilted to one side. He gave the orderly a sheepish, but grateful, look when two strong hands arrested his fall and held him up until he regained equilibrium. After a moment, the orderly stepped back, but not too far, hands hovering in readiness.

In small, cautious increments, Hotch let the weight on his injured leg increase. When he realized he could stand without pain, he shifted, adding more until his weight was evenly distributed. He drew himself up to his full height and turned a delighted look on the smiling physician.

“It’s not even sore! How’s that possible?”

“You’re healthy and strong. That’s the type that heals fastest.” The doctor nodded toward the orderly, also sporting a grin at this patient’s surprised joy in his own recovery. “He can have his clothes now. You’ll need to get the bag his friends left for him.” Once his assistant had gone, the doctor turned grave. “I’d like a word with you, son, before I send in your discharge papers. Sit down.”

Hotch lowered himself to the narrow mattress, expecting a lecture about being more careful in the outdoors and some advice on taking it easy for a few days. No jogging…that sort of thing. He was surprised when the doctor took a seat beside him. Strong fingers took hold of his chin, turning his head so eye contact was unavoidable.

“Are you alright with what happened to you, son?”

Hotch blinked. “Sure. It’s not the first time I’ve been hurt. I don’t like it, but it goes with the job. It’s just part of the territory.”

It was unsettling the way the doctor held his gaze. He wanted to drop his eyes and contemplate something safe and nonjudgmental, like the floor, but he couldn’t.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” He released Hotch’s chin and pulled back, the better to survey the whole man. He brushed some hair back from his patient’s forehead, letting his hand linger at the side of the thin face. “Well, you’re a good boy, and a smart man. If you ever feel things are getting too difficult…as though you’re out of place or lost…come back. I’ll sort you out. But…” The doctor rose, with a small grunt of effort. “…I think you’ll be alright. Maybe a little changed, but still…alright.”