The Missing |~| Criminal Minds Fanfic-Book 2

*Cold*

I couldn't tell then, but I was angry. I screamed and yelled at myself as the room echoed back the sound of my despair right back to my face. I had begun to rip off bracelets, necklaces, bandages off myself, feeling the rage and power through my weak arms as the pieces of plastics and metal crumbled into my hand and thrown to the ground in spite of my life.

I made fist with my hands and begin to hit my head repeatedly, screaming for the pain, the thoughts, the torture to just stop.

The screaming never stopped until Garcia in final attempts of stopping me from harming myself wrapped her arms around mine. I shake and screamed until my final efforts to be heard turned into shallow sobs while breaking down in Garcia's bear hug.

She begins to hum and sway side to side until my head soon stop spinning and my eyes rolled into the back of my head until I drifted into a darken sleep.

——

"How long has she been like that?" I asked, standing in the doorway of the guest room where Carrie lied.

"It's been hours," Garcia sighed. "She was attacking herself so I had to enclose her in a tight hug until she basically fell silent."

Garcia and I begin to stare into the room as I ran my hands down my face. Her chest slowly falls up and down while the monitor beats a rather slow rhythm. Looking somewhat at peace, finally.

"Hotch and the others should be here soon." I informed her. "We are leaving for Idaho on Wednesday."

"Anyone staying behind?" She asked and I shrugged half heartedly.

"Reid might, but I don't think that's the best idea." I told her truthfully. "It's just not the best of time."

"Has he begun to remember things?"

"Some here and there. Every now and then, but it's not enough for him to just click and I feel like there isn't enough time."

"What do you mean?" She squint her eyes at me and I turn towards her.

"You and I both know that she won't get better until Spencer comes around. She'll get worse until it's to the point she's in her death bed and I think that's what she wants right now." I snap.

It soon falls silent until Garcia opens her mouth. "Maybe Spencer should stay?" She states almost like a hesitated question.

"Why?" I questioned her motives.

"Morgan, if you think about, if he's near her, his brain will get to thinking like it always does and something is bound to pop up." She sighs. "It always does. Reid will come around."

"Not soon enough. I can't go back to that night." I shook my head. "Any night in fact."

"It's hurting all of us." She shrug. "She starts physical therapy soon. She hasn't tried moving or walking around."

"She probably doesn't want to." I stated. "She's been complaining about the numbness below the waist."

My heart sunk. "She's probably paralyzed if anything."

"Her next doctor appointment is tomorrow, isn't it?"

I nod in response. "Tuesday at noon with Dr. Bartlett at the hospital. I believe the whole team is going."

"I would hope so-actually," She stops and I look at her face as she puzzled thoughts together. "Let's all have a late breakfast here. The whole team. Everyone. Hype her up, get her ready to conquer."

"Including Reid?"

"I said the whole team, Derek." She rolled her eyes at me. "Maybe it'll lighten up her mood."

I shrug effortlessly as I tread into the room with her on my heels. Dragging my tired limbs to Carries bedside, grabbing the chair and pulling it below me by the bed. Garcia watches over as I immediately relax and slump over. Sighing in despair.

I bring the back of my hand to her cheek, relief that I wasn't feeling any major heat.

"She broke her fever." I mumble.

"She probably needs to get up soon, don't you think?"

I look at my watch. "Leave her be, the sun is setting soon. She needs it." Garcia nods in response.

"Maybe we should start heading to bed?" She questions.

I shrug, rubbing under my eyes, trying to hide the infinite bags under them. "Nah, I'm okay." I sigh.

She nods and looks at the ground. "I'm going to go now. Take your time."

And like that, she walked out of the door. I stare at the pale body before me and my head begins to hang low. I violently rub my face to hopefully make the dark circles go away and to wake myself, but it did neither.

She was on every home monitor imaginable. Breathing, heart rate, blood pressure, anything you could think of. It looks daunting, intimidating, difficult to deal with and to look at. Such an eye sore, but I can't say anything about it. I don't have to go through with that.

I couldn't imagine what the pain could feel like. The road cutting deep into the skin, slammed hard enough to crush an entire bone. The heat burning and finally, the sudden stop. Then laying there as a pool of blood quickly pours out like a waterfall, shaky, in shock, not being able to grasp anything. Sitting up and immediately tearing off clothes whether it broke more bones and tore off flesh and to get out of the danger area, but...to continue the duty of finding Spencer. I-I-I could never, in day accomplish that. I wouldn't go through it. I'm not strong enough.

Then to be told that the love of your life had no recollection of you and your relationship together; that has gone through thick and thin. To be told it must've meant nothing. Losing him not once, not twice, but three times? That weight suddenly dropped on your chest and it suddenly feels like you're underwater, anchored down, but can breath? I can't imagine. Dying and being resuscitated over and over again when all you really want to do is let go because the one thing that kept you on top of the ground is now in the mist of dust in the wind and now you want to be six feet under? I could never.

I admire the strength she's given. Hitting everything head on. Defying odds. Trying to fight through everything she had been given-not given, but thrown at her at full force. I don't have that strength. Her lies deeper within.

I could never do what she pulled, but little does she know, Spencer is starting to come.