Psychopathy

Chapter 65- Chess And Baby Steps

Scientifically speaking, it never would have worked. That kind of thing had never been proven possible. The idea though, was fascinating- even if the execution was downright horrible. But that night, he'd had an intense nightmare. In his dream, it had been Ciara on the doctor's makeshift operating table. It had been her getting her leg amputated, and in his dream, she hadn't been given anesthesia. And when the doctor pulled off his mask, it had been James Bunder.

He knew when he woke up that he had to see Ciara, for his own peace of mind. If she asked, he would downplay the last few days as just another week, just another murderer. He would change the subject by asking how the past week had been for her. He knew when they went back to work, his ability to visit her would dramatically decrease. That knowledge didn't help him, though. It still didn't remove the vice grip that tightened around him every day he went without seeing her.

It wasn't as if she didn't have visitors. Teresa and Ria visited whenever they could, and so did Garcia. Every member of the BAU visited every now and again when they could, and so did Nonna. Akilah had mentioned that she swung by the hospital every morning, and when they were away on cases, she at least called. Reid wondered if he should start doing that. If he called her- maybe not every day but close to it- would it help close the chasm that seemed to grow whenever he was away? He'd have to ask Ciara first and make sure she was okay with that.

Finally the elevator door opened and Reid took the first step onto the third floor. Dr. Rivera had mentioned that a transfer was possible. Ciara's life was no longer in immediate danger, it was possible she could be transferred to either the Med-Surg unit or the Women and Children's unit. The only thing stopping them was the paperwork required to transfer Elizabeth to that unit. Wherever Ciara went, Elizabeth would have to go, too, and for the moment, it made more sense to just keep her in the ICU. Just in case.

As Reid approached room 312, he heard Ciara and Elizabeth, and he smiled softly. Whatever was happening, Ciara did not sound amused. In fact, quite the opposite. Elizabeth, however, was very amused and seemed to enjoy the situation. It was only when he got close to the open door that he was able to clearly hear their voices.

"Why the feck do I have to wear this thing? It's unsightly. Ye're not going to make me wear this old-person belt," Ciara protested.

"It's called a gait belt and you are going to wear it."

"I don't need this. The whole point of this was that ye weren't going to help me."

"I'm not. I'm just going to keep a hold of it in case you fall. Other than that, it's all on you. Would you rather fall to the floor and break something?" Elizabeth asked, and for a few seconds, it was silent in the room.

"...No."

"Well, then, I would suggest you wear the gait belt." Ciara muttered under her breath, too quiet for Reid to hear. Elizabeth clearly heard it though, because she immediately started laughing. Reid shook his head in amusement and stood in the open doorway. Ciara was out of bed, her clothing still far too loose, the emerald necklace proudly shining on her chest. And around her waist was the gait belt. She was right- it was rather unsightly. But Reid understood the purpose.

Elizabeth gently took hold of it. A loose enough grip that she wasn't actually helping Ciara, but if there was any sign that Ciara was about to fall, she could easily tighten her grip and prevent it. Elizabeth noticed him in the doorway and put her finger to her lips, and Reid nodded. Ciara, however, did not notice his presence, truly engrossed in her task. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration, and took a step.

Reid's eyes widened as she took that first step and then another. And another after that. He'd heard that she'd been taking small steps in her physical therapy sessions, but they were always assisted. Someone had been holding onto her, or she'd been holding on to a railing. But this? The gait belt was the least assistance she could get. And yet, there she was, taking steps practically on her own.