Chapter Text
Hotch, Rossi, JJ, and Morgan stood in the hotel lobby, exhaustion plastered on each of their faces. It was painfully early, 5:39am to be exact. It was still dark out. The team had wrapped their case in Boston too late the previous evening to fly home. They were eager to get back, so they opted to take off at first light.
Hotch checked his watch again. Every agent on his team had shown up in the lobby on time, except for one. Reid was 9 minutes late. The team’s scheduled departure time would be in jeopardy if he was much later.
Hotch handed a spare room key to Morgan. He always collected the second key to each of their rooms, just in case. Hotch rarely needed to use them. Morgan disappeared down the hallway where their rooms were, re-appearing a couple of minutes later with a bag in his hands. “He’s not in his room. His go bag was still in there, fully packed, but his jacket and messenger bag are gone.” He placed Reid’s go bag with the rest.
JJ picked up her cell phone and dialed a familiar number for the third time that morning. “It’s still going straight to voicemail,” she said as she hung up, having already left a message for him to call her.
Hotch thought for a moment. “Maybe he couldn’t sleep and went for a walk. He does that sometimes. That doesn’t explain why he’s late or why isn’t answering his phone though.” Hotch knew that 9 minutes late was not yet worth panicking over, but Reid was always punctual, and kept his phone on him at all times. Hotch’s gut was telling him something was wrong, and he’d learned long ago to trust his gut.
JJ asked, “Do you want me to wake Garcia to track his phone?” The concern in her voice was not well disguised. They all worried about each other, but when it came to Reid, being the youngest of them, they worried just a little bit more.
Before Hotch could answer JJ, a noise from the front door of the hotel caught his attention. A figure stumbled through the door. Hotch was the only person on the team that was facing that direction, but the noise combined with Hotch’s panicked expression quickly had the rest of the team turning around to see what he saw.
Time seemed to slow as Hotch assessed what he was seeing in a split second.
The figure was Reid. He was holding his gun in his right hand, finger on the trigger and hand trembling. Hotch saw that both of Reid’s hands were cut up and covered in blood. He was moving very awkwardly, as if he was in pain and it was all he could do to stay on his feet. His left cheek had a large abrasion, his lip was split, and both of his eyes were black. Reid’s eyebrows were knitted together in pain, but his eyes had a blankness to them, as though he wasn’t really taking in anything in front of him. There were blood smears all over the front of Reid’s clothing, but Hotch couldn’t see any obvious major wounds. Reid was, however, wearing several layers of clothing, including a sweater vest and a black peacoat, which were likely obscuring injuries Hotch had no doubt they’d find.
Hotch held both of his hands in front of him nonthreateningly, and slowly closed the distance between himself and Reid halfway. He gave the rest of the team a small gesture with his hand that told them to stay where they were.
”Reid, I need you to drop the gun,” Hotch said calmly.
Reid shifted his gaze to Hotch, seeming to just now register that anyone was in the room with him. “Hotch.” The word was quiet and desperate.
Reid dropped the gun and it clattered noisily to the floor. Hotch thought it was less because he’d told Reid to drop it, and more because he didn’t have the strength to hold it anymore.
Hotch rushed forward to Reid immediately, sensing correctly that Reid would not remain on his feet much longer. As Reid stumbled, Hotch lunged forward faster, catching the young man part-fall, and managing to keep him from hitting the ground.
“Reid, where are you hurt?” Hotch asked. Reid didn’t seem to register the question. The rest of the team took in the scene before quickly rushing into action. Each seemed to know what they needed to do without being told, which Hotch was grateful for.
JJ had her phone back out, calling for an ambulance and staying on the line to relay any new information as they discovered it.
Rossi was busy asking the lone staff member at the hotel’s front desk for towels or sheets, anything they could use to help stop bleeding should they need it. From the amount of blood on him, Reid was bleeding heavily from somewhere, they just weren’t sure where yet.
Morgan sprang forward to help Hotch hold Reid up. Reid’s legs had since lost any ability to hold his weight, the adrenaline that was keeping him upright having now run its course. Reid’s eyes were still open, though unfocused. His body was now almost completely limp, and the only thing keeping him upright was Morgan and Hotch’s grip on him.
Hotch got right in front of Reid and tried again. “Reid, I need you to tell me what happened,” he ordered.
“St-stabbed,” Reid stammered out before letting out a small whimper of pain.
Hotch’s eyes went wide, and he immediately began checking Reid over carefully with his eyes, trying to find the source of the bleeding. He removed Reid’s jacket, eliciting another groan of pain from Reid as he did so. A large patch of red seeped through the back of Reid’s sweater vest. Hotch lifted Reid’s sweater vest and the button-down shirt underneath to expose his bare skin and grimaced at the sight of a moderately sized and heavily bleeding stab wound on Reid’s left lower back. “Here. I found it. It looks deep. Damnit.” Hotch took just one more second to check the rest of Reid’s torso, ensuring it was the only major wound. He noted that there were a great deal of bruises and abrasions on Reid, some smaller cuts on his arms, and some blood in his hair that might indicate a head wound, but nothing else seemed to be bleeding profusely except the stab wound, so that took priority at the moment. Hotch quickly grabbed several of the towels that had been placed beside him by Rossi and pushed them desperately against the wound.
“Ow,” Reid yelled in pain as Hotch applied heavy pressure.
JJ relayed the information about the stab wound to the dispatcher she was still on the call with. Meanwhile, Rossi directed the young lady at the front desk to make sure the area was kept clear, seeing that the commotion had roused a few of the other hotel guests to peek their heads out of their doors.
Morgan kicked Reid’s gun to the side and lowered Reid to the ground gently, laying him on his side, allowing Hotch to apply pressure to Reid’s back more easily, while Morgan braced Reid to keep him from being pushed forward by the pressure. Hotch tried to reassure the young agent. “Reid, we’ve got you. An ambulance is on the way. Can you tell me what happened?”
Reid’s eyes rolled shut and he went completely limp.
“Reid! Kid, stay with us!” Morgan shouted to no avail. He put his hands on the young man’s face, trying to rouse him. When he couldn’t, he checked the pulse on Reid’s neck and sighed in relief that it was still there, though it was weak.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Rossi assisted the hotel staff in corralling more hotel guests back to their rooms while JJ rushed out the front door to meet the medics.
As the medics entered the hotel lobby, they quickly took over the care of Reid. Hotch and Morgan moved out of their way, never taking their eyes off of their friend. The medics were talking to each other as they worked, but Hotch didn’t register a word of the medical jargon they were saying. He had the thought that Reid would know exactly what every word they were saying meant. Then Hotch realized that he himself probably would too, if the words were registering, if only for the amount of time he and his team spent in hospitals and around medical staff, both for victims and for their own injuries.
Hotch followed the medics’ movements with his eyes as they checked Reid’s vitals, packed his wound, and moved him to a stretcher for transport. As the medics reached the front door, one of their voices finally broke through to Hotch. “If anyone is coming with us, they need to jump in right now.”
Hotch looked at his team, immediately knowing the right call. “JJ, go with him, and keep me updated. The rest of us will see you as soon as we can.” JJ nodded and immediately exited the hotel to the ambulance. It sped away with its sirens blaring.
Hotch looked down at his hands and sleeves, which were covered in Reid’s blood all the way up his forearms. He looked around the hotel lobby. The smears of blood took up far too large a space on the linoleum floor. He stared at it, trying to process what had just happened and the fact that all of this blood had come from a young man he considered family.
Rossi noted the dazed look in Hotch’s eyes, and the same could be seen in Morgan’s. He attempted to pull them back to the present. “Hotch, what do you need us to do?”
This had its desired effect. Hotch snapped back into the present, and assumed leadership of the situation. “Dave, local PD will be on scene any moment. I need you to coordinate with them. Make sure they secure and process the scene. This will officially be their case, but we’ll need them to agree to allow us to assist with it. Do whatever you need to do to make that happen.”
As Rossi nodded and exited the building to meet the police, Hotch grabbed an unused towel from the floor, using it to wipe as much of the blood off of his hands as he could. He handed another to Morgan to do the same, though Morgan had far less blood on him and cleaned up quicker than Hotch. “Morgan, can you check Reid’s jacket?”
“What am I looking for?” Morgan asked, already moving across the room and grabbing it.
Hotch dropped the towel, hands as clean as they could get without soap and water. He pushed up his sleeves to make the blood on them less noticeable. “Reid didn’t have his messenger bag on him. I want to know if he was carrying his cell phone or his wallet.”
Morgan patted down the jacket and shook his head. “No, nothing here. You think this might be a mugging gone bad?”
Hotch sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. But if his cell phone isn’t on him, we might be able to track it to an unsub or the scene of the incident.”
Hotch pulled out his own cell phone and made a call, putting it on speaker.
“Sir?” A tired and obviously just awoken Garcia answered.
“Garcia, you’re on speaker with me and Morgan. I need you at a computer and I need you there right now.” Hotch said.
Some shuffling could be heard on Garcia’s end for about 20 seconds, and she sounded decidedly more awake when she spoke again. “Yes sir, I have my laptop at the ready. What do you need?” Hotch could hear the worry in her voice, which was warranted given the time of day and the fact that they weren’t currently on a case.
Hotch sighed. “Reid was stabbed this morning.” They heard Garcia gasp on the other end, but Hotch continued. “He’s on the way to the hospital. JJ is with him. He doesn’t have his phone on him, so I need you to track it.”
They could hear Garcia typing frantically. “On it sir. Is he okay?”
Hotch weighed his options on what to tell her. “He’s lost a lot of blood but he was hanging in there when the medics arrived. I’ll let you know the moment we have an update from JJ at the hospital. In the meantime, I need you focused.”
Garcia was quick to respond. “Of course sir, anything for Reid. Looks like his phone is off, I can’t track it.”
Morgan sighed. “Garcia, we need to know where Reid was this morning. Can you check if he made any purchases?”
There was a moment of silence but for the sound of rapid typing. “As much as I disdain diving into the personal lives of my comrades, I will do so for the greater good. Okay got it. I see a purchase this morning from a coffee shop about three blocks from your hotel. Sending you the address now.”
Hotch asked, “Garcia, what time was the purchase made?”
Garcia was quick to respond. “5:17am.”
Morgan frowned and didn’t hesitate to voice his concern. “So that’s almost 25 minutes before he made it back to the hotel. If you figure the walk is 5 minutes, maybe 10 in the condition he was in… that’s 15 minutes unaccounted for.”
Hotch nodded. “We need to walk it and see if we can find anything. Garcia?”
”Yes, sir?” Garcia responded.
Hotch softened his voice a little, aware that the woman was at least as worried as the rest of them were. “I need you to stay at the ready if we have any more questions, but in the meantime, get yourself here. He’ll want to see you. Feel free to call JJ and check in, she’s alone at the hospital and I’m sure she’d like someone to talk to while she waits for news.”
Garcia sniffled, and Hotch had no doubt that she was crying. “Will do, sir. Let me know what you find. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
Hotch hung up the phone, thinking for a moment before going to his go bag and pulling out some spare latex gloves he kept in there.
Morgan watched him, knowing better than to question the man, but curious about what he was up to.
Hotch put on the gloves and then crossed the room back to where Reid’s gun lay. He opened the cylinder of the revolver. “Not a shot fired,” he remarked. He set the gun back down and pulled off the gloves.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “How does a trained FBI agent with a gun get that beat up and stabbed, and never fire a bullet?”
Hotch sighed. “That’s what we need to find out.”