CM: BigBang 2011
Chapter 9
The first thing on Friday morning, Hotch noticed, was Reid´s foul mood. He stood in the kitchenette getting his first cup of coffee when he noticed Morgan walking up to Reid in his cubical and saying something to him. Reid snapped something Hotch didn´t hear but Morgan raised his hands up in the air in a surrendering motion.
“Wow, genius, did your girl give you hard time last night?” Morgan said with a gentle voice.
Hotch watched as Jo rose from her seat. “Morgan, please don´t,” Jo urged.
Reid stood up. “You stay out of this,” he said fiercely to her.
Hotch walked up to the group. He noticed how Reid looked away when he approached. “Reid, Davenport. My office,” he ordered before walking a head of them.
Jo walked in with Reid on her heals. Reid closed the door behind them and crossed his arms over his chest while Jo stood straight with her hands by her side.
Hotch took a seat in his chair and folded his hands in front of him. “Since the two of you managed to work together yesterday, I take it whatever problem there is between the two of you, it is personal?”
He looked at Jo and she met his gaze. “Yes, sir. I´m sorry, this is my fault. It won´t happen again,” she said firmly.
He looked at Reid but Reid was staring hard at the carpet. “Reid?”
Reid glanced at him, just long enough for Hotch to catch the anger in his eyes. “It´s personal,” Reid said crisply. Hotch stared at him for a moment but Reid refused to meet is eyes again.
“Whatever it is, I expect you to leave it outside of the workplace,” Hotch said gently. He really didn´t want to get involved if it wasn’t a work related issue but he couldn´t have his agents arguing openly either.
“Yes, sir.” Jo said. Hotch nodded in dismissal and watched as they walked out of his office. He kept an eye on them until Reid had taken his seat. Jo stood and stared at Reid who was clearly frustrated and seemed to be ignoring her. She dropped her shoulders in defeat before walking out through the glass doors only to return with a huge stack of paper which she set on Reid´s table without saying a word. Cold cases, Hotch noted as he recognized the colorful folders. Clearly Jo had said or done something to upset Reid and was bringing him the perfect distraction. Reid glared accusingly at Jo while she took her seat and then reached for the top folder in the large stack.
For the rest of the day, Hotch watched as everyone stayed clear of Reid´s desk. Once again he wondered if he´d made the right choice of hiring her. It looked like she had a hidden agenda, the secret phone calls and meeting could indicate as much, but she had proven her worth and then some.
It usually took Reid months to feel comfortable enough around people, to let them witness just how fierce he could be, and that was not taking into account how rare it was for Reid to let his frustration show. Hotch felt pulled at from both sides, he needed Agent Davenport but he also needed his team to be able to work together. .
***
Hotch entered the bull pen at 6:46 am on Monday morning. The bull pen was dark, except for the lamp on Reid´s desk. Ignoring it, Hotch turned to his right to grab a cup of coffee before heading to his office. The light caught shone on something on the floor by Reid´s desk and when he turned around he realized he was looking at a Reid´s sneaker, lying on its side. Reid had a small tendency to be cluttered, but leaving his sneakers out like this wasn´t something he would do. Deciding to put the shoe under the table where it wouldn´t be in the way, Hotch set his briefcase down on the floor and his mug on Jo´s desk. As he came closer he noticed the shoe had a foot in it and the leg ran up behind the desk.
Rushing forward, Hotch found the young man lying unmoving on his side, on the floor. A small pool of blood was by the top of his head. He instantly pushed away his worry and his first aid training kicked in.
“Reid,” he called out. He set his fingers over the jugular on the neck in search for a pulse, the beat was firm under his fingers. Leaning over Reid´s head, he listened for and heard the shallow breathing. “Spencer,” he called again, this time slapping his hand a few times against Reid´s cheek, without a response. Quickly pulling out his phone he dialed 9-1-1 just as he heard the glass door swing open.
“Nine one one, what´s your emergency?” the operator answered as Hotch peeked over the desks to see who had entered. When Jo noticed him, she immediately dropped her bag to the floor and ran toward them.
“This is SAA Hotchner at the FBI Headquarters in Quantico,” he quickly said to the operator and moved a bit to the side as Jo kneeled next to him on the floor. “I have an unconscious thirty year old male. He´s breathing and he has a pulse, but there's blood on his head,” Hotch said.
“There is an ambulance on the way. Do you know how long he´s been unconscious?”
“No, I found him like this,” Hotch said frustrated and set his fingers again on Reid´s neck.
“Can you tell where the bleeding is coming from and if has stopped?”
“He´s on his side and we can´t check without turning his head,” Hotch said quickly.
”Okay, don´t try to move him, just keep him comfortable until the ambulance gets there. It´s about three minutes out.”
“Three minutes,” Hotch said and Jo nodded. She reached for the phone on Reid´s desk and quickly punched the numbers. “This is Agent Davenport with the BAU,” she said into the phone, “We are expecting an ambulance in three minutes. Please make sure they have a clear pathway and an elevator waiting.”
Hotch stood up and quickly got the blanket he kept in his office. Together they spread it over Reid.
“Spencer, can you hear me?” she asked and shook him a little. She looked at Hotch when the young man didn´t react. He noticed the worry in her eyes but there was little they could do except wait for the ambulance.
“What is going on?” Morgan said over their shoulders. Neither had noticed him coming in.
“I found him this way,” Hotch told him quickly, “He isn´t responding.
“Can you run down and bring the EMT´s when they arrive?” Jo said.
“On it,” Morgan said quickly and ran out of the office. Hotch noted that he chose the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.
Four minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. Every now and then Jo or Hotch checked Spencer´s pulse and breathing, saying his name in the process. Morgan arrived with the EMT´s and they quickly got to work. Hotch hung up on the operator after thanking him and watched the two men work.
One of the EMT´s took the backboard of the gurney and set it up against Reid´s back. Morgan stepped in and held the board while one EMT held the neck and the other took the feet. In a joint effort they turned Reid on to his back. The EMT by his head secured the neck with a neck-brace. The other opened Reid´s shirt and set pads on Reid´s chest. As soon as he´d hooked the pads to the heart monitor, the machine started beeping regularly. They looked at the head wound, saying it had stopped bleeding and one of the EMT wrote down the information. After that, they lifted Reid on to the gurney, covered him with a blanket and strapped him down. The EMT´s rolled him toward the elevator and the three of them followed.
Hotch turned toward Morgan and Jo, both looked worried but focused. “I´m going to go with him,” he told them.
He noticed how Morgan hesitated for a second before nodding. “Okay,” Morgan said, “We´ll call the others.”
The elevator arrived and Hotch stepped on last.
“We´ll meet you there, keep us updated,” Jo added just as the door closed.
“Sir, what´s your name?” One of the EMT asked.
“Aaron Hotchner,” he told him. He looked at Spencer lying pale and so still on the gurney. “I have power of attorney.”
“Good,” the man said and wrote it down. “Do you know if he´s allergic to any medications?”
“Narcotics.” It was strange to see him so still. Hotch tried to keep his cool but it was hard to keep control of the fear.
***
Jo couldn´t shake the nagging feeling this was entirely her fault and a horrible continuance of Thursday and Friday. But there was no room for self-pity so Jo picked up the phone and called Dave. After filling him in, he told her he was heading to the hospital and would meet her there.
As she hung up, she noticed Garcia walking in. She pointed Garcia out to Morgan, and he instantly left to talk to her. Following behind, Jo watched as Morgan explained what had happened and hugged Garcia tightly. The analyst was too shocked to respond.
Jo walked up to them. “Garcia,” she said gently as Morgan let Garcia go. “We need to look at the surveillance cameras in the bullpen. We need to know what happened,” Jo said, hoping to get the woman to focus.
“Yeah, yeah,” Garcia said as she turned her head left and right, looking lost.
“Baby girl,” Morgan said and Garcia looked at him. “The sooner we see the tapes the sooner we can go to the hospital.”
“Yeah, okay,” Garcia sniffed.
As soon as Garcia took a seat by her computers, the analyst seemed to gather her thoughts and started hammering on the keyboard. Within seconds the image was up on the screen. The three of them bent over the screen as Garcia rewound the image.
The camera was on the wall behind Jo´s desk, pointed toward the briefing room. Reid´s desk lamp came on at 6:10, revealing Reid holding a cup of coffee. He picked on his computer before opening a file but he kept squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples and eyes.
At 6:32am he covered his face with his hands and it looked like he was pressing hard. They saw him sway and fall to his right, his head hitting against the brim of the desk as the chair rolled from underneath him and the agent disappeared under the desk.
“Oh, my god,” Garcia whispered and Jo noticed a tear falling down her cheek.
Jo looked at Morgan. He had clearly noticed the tear too because he set his hand on Garcia´s shoulder. “Come on girl, I´ll take you to the hospital,” he said and helped Garcia up.
“I´ll call Hotch and let him know what happened and meet you there,” Jo told him and they nodded at each other in agreement.
Jo stood a few feet inside the empty bull pen as everything emotion and self-doubt came rushing back. She drew in a long breath and slowly let it out as she looked around. What have I done?
***
Ch: 10