High and Drowning

Chapter 8

sorrow ˈ[sôrō]

a verb

to feel or display deep distress

_________

The doctor stood in the doorway, perhaps looking for some sort of family member. What he got was five FBI agents that all looked up when he announced Reid's name. 

This is what he got working near Quantico. 

Hotch stood up, worry etched across his face. He was well aware that Reid wasn't about to go home anytime soon. He was worried about how he would cover this up, how he could effectively lie, salvaging his and Reid's job from the brass. 

The doctor cleared his throat and flipped through the pages on his clipboard.

"Agent Reid."

"Dr. Reid." Hotch automatically corrected. He blinked and looked apologetically at the doctor. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Dr. Reid had been moved to the psychiatrics ward where he will be on suicide watch for about two days. He will also be going through a detox as well, but we have him on much lower dosage of Dilaudid, so as to combat the withdrawal pains. As time progresses and he effectively withdraws we will follow through with a psychiatric appointment to address the depression and suicidal thoughts. Once we have determined that he is no longer a threat to himself, we will release him, most likely with some sort of antidepressants." The doctor looked up at the group. They all had some sort of grief on their face. He felt his chest clench. "Any questions?" 

Hotch nodded. "How long do you think he will be in here?" His voice was quiet. 

The doctor sighed. "The hospital will hold on to him for three days. Once those three days are up, we will come to the conclusion to either release him, or if necessary observe him for longer. Which is not covered by the hospital." He winced, he hated this part. 

Hotch absorbed the information. "What is your unofficial timeline?" 

The doctor shifted. "I think it will probably be longer than three days. The depression along with the addiction is definitely a difficult issue." He shrugged. "But I'm not his psychiatrist." 

Morgan spoke up. "Can we see him?" 

The doctor hesitated, then nodded. "As long as you make sure that anything you bring in with you can not be used for him to possibly be a threat to himself or to you. Try not to upset him, and don't bring up the fact that he is being hospitalized for his depression. More often than not, when people learned that they are being hospitalized for their depression they take it the wrong way, and it takes us longer to get through to them. For now, all he knows is that he overdosed and is being treated for his addiction and is going through a standard detox." 

The group exchanged looks and focused back on the doctor. They were aware of the way Reid felt about hospitalization. 

"All right, he may be in pain from the detox, but trust me we're doing everything we can to make him comfortable." The doctor led the group out of the room. 

_________

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear a faint beeping. He shifted, sheets crumpling under him. He had to get up, had to go to work. 

But he was so tired. Five more minutes. At least five more minutes. 

The  beeping grew louder and he frowned. So no five minutes then. He made as though to turn the alarm off. Alarm shot through him when a pain shot through his arm. 

And then. 

It all came crashing back in a swift wave of terrible memories. 

The drugs, the terrible addiction, the drowning depression, the wandering and how utter lost he had felt the past few months, the masks that he had worn, the curious betrayal that he felt, and the utter desperation that had driven him to try and kill himself. 

His breaths came quicker and quicker, and the beeps came faster and faster. 

Distantly, blurrily, a voice was commanding him to breathe, to calm down. 

And he really did try. 

But the weight of what he had tried to do, and the memories that had just crashed into him would not let him. 

He breathed faster, his heart racing. 

The voice above him dipped in and out. And suddenly a cold sensation grabbed his body and forced his breathing to slow down, forced his eyes close, forced his mind to stop racing. 

At least for now. 

_________

JJ watched him through the window. They had to sedate him, he had woken up, and promptly slipped into a panic attack. 

And now he was asleep, his face screwed up from, no doubt the thoughts his ever-racing mind threw at him. 

She sighed. He had been saved, from death. And she would do whatever it took to walk him back from the ledge. 

The orderly let her into the room and she slipped a hand into his. She tried to warm his hand up by rubbing it between the two of hers. Then she just held it, tight. 

His eyes were darting back and forth underneath his eyelids, and she wondered again what he was seeing. 

A tremor ran through him. And another, then another. 

Detox. Should be fun. 

Soon he was trembling and covered with a sheen of sweat. JJ lifted his hair off his forehead, smoothing the tangled hair away from the hot forehead. She wanted nothing more than to help him, to give him a hug, to tell him it would ok, that he would ok. 

Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes. 

JJ smiled at him, and she stroked back his hair. "Hey," she whispered. If the detox was like anything that she read it would be, than he would be getting a killer headache. 

He groaned softly, curling in on himself. He was trembling violently. "JJ." He cleared his throat. "W-what." He grimaced. 

She picked up on the unspoken question. "We're all here. And listen to me. We, I haven't been there for you, haven't noticed how you were slipping. Reid." He didn't look up. "Spence, please we're here now, you have to let us in now. Ok, have to let us help you now. You have to let us in."

Reid shook his head, weakly. "JJ, I am not your r-responsibility. This-"He motioned vaguely around the room. "W-was all my own d-doing. I did t-this, to me." He slumped back, defeated, tired from his confession. "N-not you. Not the t-team." He jabbed a finger weakly into his chest. "M-me, JJ. S-so please d-don't tear yourself apart with g-guilt." 

JJ's eyes filled with tears and she grabbed his hands. "Spence." Her heart squeezed and she fell quiet. 

They stayed like that for a while, hands clasped, and a quiet silence between the two. 

JJ tightened her grip as she felt his tremors grow more intense. She would stay with him through this, no matter the consequences.  No matter what.