Friendship Worth Risking

Chapter Eleven

Reid is sitting in the waiting room. He already took off his vest and is staring at the bullet embedded in it.

He feels a hand on his left shoulder. "Reid?" Reid looks up to see Hotch is attached to the hand. "I asked if you are ok."

Reid blinks slowly. "Morgan is in surgery. His odds are good. Upper chest gunshot wounds have fewer organs to damage and often repair well. He has lost quite a bit of blood, but they can give him a transfusion. He should be fine." Reid's voice lowers. "He has to be fine."

Hotch nods. "Thank you, Reid. But I asked if you are ok." Hotch is using his traumatized-victim voice unintentionally.

Reid blinks again. "I am uninjured, but I think I might be going into shock." His breathing is too rapid and his hands feel cold.

"Ok. I'm going to get someone. Stay seated." Reid nods in agreement. JJ, Rossi, and Prentiss are there as well. Prentiss looks sad but hopeful. Rossi is deep in thought, ignoring those around him. JJ crouches down and sits on her heels to be level with Reid.

"Spence, what happened to your neck? Are you hurt?" She points to his left side of his neck.

"No, those are from before. Harmless." He had almost forgot that his scarf was abandoned at the police station.

"You are covered in blood. Is any of it yours?" She looks worried for him.

"I'm fine." He points to the vest on the table. "Bullet hit my vest. My shoulder doesn't even hurt. That could be the shock, though."

Hotch has returned with a nurse and a wheelchair. Reid stands up, a little unsteady. He can feel the partially dried blood on his hands crack when he moves.

"Take it easy, Reid. Do you want me to come with you?" Hotch is in Protector mode, and his voice is trying to hide how much these two people mean to him.

"It's ok, Hotch. Some saline, oxygen, and a warm blanket and I'll be fine. JJ, Rossi, and Prentiss need you." Hotch looks back at the remainder of his team and back to Reid.

"You have your phone. Call me if you need anything."

Reid nods and the nurse wheels him away to a room away from everyone else. He was right about the IV saline, of course, to help with blood pressure. He was also right about the oxygen. The warmed blanket is his favorite, though. It's thick and heavy and pre-warmed; it feels reassuring.

After twenty-two minutes, Reid feels better. His body has absorbed about half the IV bag and his oxygen saturation levels are consistently above 98. The numbness has dissipated and his mind is clear again. He pages the nurse.

The door opens and the same nurse comes in. "Can I help you, sir?" His voice is pleasant and even.

"I am feeling much better. I'd really like to wash my face and check on my friends." They had put him in a gown and collected his clothes in a bag. They wiped off his hands, but there is still a lot of blood on him.

The nurse seems sympathetic. "I'll make you a deal. I'll unhook you and let you get cleaned up, but when you come back, I need to hook you back up to the bag. The doctor was adamant that you receive a full bag of fluids."

Reid nods. "Could I talk you into a mobile IV? I promise to return when it is out of fluids."

"I'll ask the doctor. You came in with the ambulance, right?" Reid nods. "Your friend was shot?" Another nod. The nurse unhooks the bag, turns off the minister, and takes the pulse oximeter from Reid. "I'll see if I can get an update."

Reid's heart hurts. "I would like that. Thank you."

He heads to the bathroom. He looks into the mirror and sees blood in his hair and all over his face and forearms. He fights a wave of nausea. He uses wet paper towels to wipe off Morgan's blood as best he can. He notices his shoulder is clean. They must have cleaned it to assess it for potential injury. I don't remember that. I must have disassociated. It is bruised, but fine. He laughs to himself. They probably thought the same thing.