A Miracle From Hell

Chapter 15

Give me life, give me pain, give me myself again.---Tori  Amos

The lights were so bright, so, so bright. His eyes, burning, light, it needed to stop. Please, he begged, turn it off. It sounded like he was underwater, the rushing in his head, overwhelming his senses. 

Make it stop, he pleaded. Make it stop. 

A voice cut through the fog in his brain, and he recognized it as Morgan. He was telling him to hold on, to hang on. He was confused, the rushing in his head was so loud, what did he have to hold on to again?  Another voice cut through and he recognized JJ's voice.  The rushing came back louder and he felt tired. 

Humming mixed into the rushing and he felt spikes of pain. He wanted this to stop, all of this to just stop. 

JJ watched the medics load Reid's limp body into the ambulance and race off. As soon as they were out of sight, she slid down the wall. Morgan sat down next to her. 

"We're going to the hospital as soon as we can." JJ nodded. "Hey, he's going to be fine. Ok? He's going to be fine." He's going to be fine. 

Prentiss walked in. "SUV's ready. Let's go." 

Hotch had ridden in the back of the ambulance. He hadn't even thought about it, he knew Reid would want someone with him, even if he was unconscious. He couldn't tear his eyes off of him. He was so unbelievably pale and thin. He was covered in blood and he had bruises covering his face. The medics hovered around him, and Hotch felt the ambulance grow cold, when the monitor let out a long continuous beep.

"He's coding!" They rushed to set up the defibrillator. Hotch watched as they sent shocks through Reid's chest four times, before the monitor started beeping again. 

He let out a breath he didn't know he had kept in. Hold on Reid. 

He ran behind the gurney, watching the trauma nurses and medics trade information. A nurse held him back as they wheeled him into the OR. "Sir, I'm sorry but you can't be in here." He watched as the doors slowly closed, until he couldn't see the gurney any more. 

He walked back to the waiting room, and sat down on the scratchy chair. He propped his head in his hands and let the emotions he had kept in, loose. All his anger, frustration, and fear poured out in silent burst of tears. 

He looked up as the rest of his team came in. "He's in surgery." He said numbly. "He coded on the way. They got his heart going, but." He shrugged. 

Everyone took a seat, and settled in. It was going to be a long night.    

He could see his team again. He could see them slumped over, tired. He wondered what was wrong. The lights filtered through and he winced.  Somewhere in the distance, a soft song played and he wandered off trying to find the origin of the music.  

An old record. Rossi would love that. He looked up from the record and his heart clenched. 

His mother was sitting in an armchair, reading out loud. This was the way he loved to remember her. Not caught in one of her schizophrenic breaks, but like this, reading to him, her voice warm with love. He dropped to his knees, and strained to listen, but to his dismay, he couldn't hear what she was saying. Mom? his voice broke. Mom? She continued reading voiceless. 

He had to see her again, had to hear her read to him again. He reached for her hand, and sighed when he passed through her. 

Another flash of light, and  this time he cried out. 

His mother had disappeared, and he looked around. He was in a café. He sank down on a seat, relieved to be sitting down. A laugh caught his ear and he turned around. That sounded like....There she was sitting at table stirring her coffee, laughing at something a waiter had just said. They made eye contact, and she walked over to him, sitting down at his table. Maeve, he managed. 

Yes. 

But you're---

Dead?

He nodded, too confused as to how she was with him right now. How? 

I'm here to tell you hold on for just a little bit longer, you've done wonderfully, now just a little bit longer. 

He blinked. Am I--- 

No. But you're very close. She reached out and grabbed his arm. You need to go back now. 

Wait. Maeve, I-- He stopped, overcome. 

She nodded. I know. 

She smiled, and then light overwhelmed him. 

It was late the next morning when the lead surgeon came into the waiting room. He had circles under his eyes, and his hands shook. "Family for Spencer Reid?" He ventured. 

Hotch woke up, his neck stiff from staying in the same position all night. "That's us." He said thickly. 

The surgeon nodded. "The surgery went well, and the patient is in recovery. However, from the extent of trauma on the patient, he has not yet woken up. I'm going to warn you, the chances of him waking up are about 50/50. The patient received severe blunt trauma to the ribs and sternum, which we attempted to reset as best as possible considering that they were broken multiple times. The multiple lacerations to the head, chest, and arms were cleaned and stitched. We managed to cut out the infection in the stab wound in his leg, and sewed up the wound in his shoulder. He also received blunt trauma to the head, resulting in a broken nose, and broken right eye socket. We have yet to see the full extent of those injuries, but it would not surprise me if the patient had a severe concussion. "

Hotch felt his heart drop at the long list. "When can we see him?" 

The surgeon looked at him with pity. "You can see him now, but please limit yourselves to two or less in the room." 

Hotch whispered a thank you and followed him out of the room. 

He almost couldn't go into the room. He could hear all the machines that held Reid's fragile life together, and that thought scared him. 

Taking a deep breath he walked in. 

Nothing, could prepare him for this.  Shuddering, he walked over to a chair and collapsed into it. 

He had seen situations like these so many times, when he was on cases, but now it was someone he loved, lying right in front of him, pale and barely breathing, and he felt tears form in his eyes. Reid had gauze wrapped around his chest. His face had deep black and purple bruises, especially around the broken eye socket and nose. His shoulder was wrapped and his one arm that wasn't in a sling, had an IV connected to it. The heart monitor beeped steadily and the oxygen hissed quietly. 

Hotch felt for Reid's hand, ignoring how thin it felt, and focused on looking at his face. "You'll get through this, I'll be here for you, every step of the way." He breathed in deeply. "If I have to, and you need me to, I will take as much time off until you're back on your feet." He let out a half-hearted chuckle. "I know you can't hear me, right now, but I mean every word I'm saying. I'm not going to let you suffer through this alone." 

The nurse came in and he left.