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Edge of Insanity	By : hatochiisai Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 4649 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor do I make any financial profit off of writing this story.

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Edge of Insanity

Hatochiisai aka Ahmose Inarus

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

SLASH WARNING!!! Hotch/Reid,

CHAPTER 3

“Good morning!” Dr. Devereux called, walking over to meet the six men and women. Hotch moved to greet her and shook her hand.

“Dr. Devereux, meet Agents Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Morgan and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia. We are… Spencer’s family.” The doctor smiled and nodded, shaking everyone’s hands.

“Family, huh? Good. I’m hoping you can talk some sense into him.”

“What did he do?” Hotch sighed, shaking hands with the woman.

“He won’t eat.” She snorted.

“Oh, my poor baby.” Garcia gasped. “Don’t worry! I brought him cookies!” And she pulled a tin out of her bag. Dr. Devereux blinked, and took in the amused looks of the other agents.

“Uh… right.” She said. “Please… this way.” And they walked into Willow Ridge Sanitarium. “He’s not been assigned to a ward yet because we’re still considering him as under assessment. He is aware of this, but he’s still not being cooperative. Trish!” An orderly was hurrying towards them. “Any luck?”

“No, doctor. He won’t get out of bed.” The orderly said.

Dr. Devereux sighed. “All you, Agent Hotchner. Maybe he’ll listen to his superior.”

Hotch echoed her sigh and shook his head, and the team was led to Reid’s room. When they got there, two orderlies were trying to coax the young man out of his bed, but he was curled up in a tight little ball, clinging to his blankets as he clung to life.

Hotch opened his mouth to warn Reid of their entrance, but he was beaten to a punch by a hot pink and yellow object hurtling towards the boy, wailing “Oh my poor baby! You leave him alone, he doesn’t have to do ANYTHING he doesn’t want to do!!!” followed by the young man on the bed jumping, startled, only to disappear from view as he was all but squashed.

“G-Garcia?!” Came the baffled inquiry, and Reid managed to wriggle around just enough to see the others. “JJ… Morgan… guys…”

“Hey Spence.” JJ said, walking over and sitting down on the side of his bed.

“… No offense, you’re a beautiful sight right now but… you look awful.” Reid said, and JJ smiled, leaning over and giving him a hug.

“Oh, honey…” Garcia said sadly, running her fingers over the boy’s disheveled hair. “You really think any of us could sleep last night, knowing you were in here?” Reid gave her a sad smile, and slowly moved to sit up.

“How are you holding up, kid?” Morgan asked.

“… I dunno…” Reid mumbled, shrugging.

“Dr. Reid, do you think you can try to eat something now?” Dr. Devereux asked.

“Yes, please get him something.” Hotch said to her, and she waved away one of the orderlies. “You didn’t eat yesterday?”

“… Wasn’t hungry.” Reid mumbled, bowing his head and playing with his ring. The team glanced around at each other; they could all hear the depression in Reid’s tone.

“Listen, kid.” Rossi said, taking a few steps closer. “This attitude of yours isn’t going to help you. You’re under assessment, remember? The doctor is watching your behavior. At this point, she’s going to think you’re manic depressive or something. I know you’re upset about being here, but you need to suck it up and stay positive and show her the Reid that we all know you are.”

“Dave’s right, Reid.” Hotch agreed.

“I know…” Reid said softly. “But… it’s hard when I know where I am… And the more I think about it, the worse I get… I wanna go home…”

“We know, Reid.” Prentiss said, joining JJ on the bed.

“Damn, kid… three gorgeous women in bed with you… you have any idea how many guys would kill to be in your place?”

“MORGAN!” The women all yelled and Reid sat frozen, eyes wide and face red.

Dr. Devereux just raised her eyebrows, intrigued with the interaction of this team.

“Alright, breakfast time Mr. Reid.”

“DOCTOR Reid!” The entire team chorused, and the orderly almost tripped in surprise. Hotch took the tray from her and turned, laying it down on Reid’s lap. Reid stared at the eggs and French Toast with fruit, then sighed and drooped.

“… I’m not hungry.” He whispered.

“Spencer.” Hotch said in his ‘I’m-The-Boss-And-you’ll-do-as-I-say’ tone. Reid gave him the ‘I’m-your-lover-and-I-REALLY-don’t-want-to-and-I’m-cute-and-pathetic-and-you’ll-let-me-have-it-my-way’ look. Hotch countered with the ‘Not-this-time-do-as-you’re-told’ glare. Reid gave him the pathetic ‘please?’ look, and Hotch narrowed his eyes, giving him the ‘NOW’ look. Reid drooped and fumbled with his fork, beginning to poke at the food.

“Don’t play with it, EAT it.” Hotch ordered. Reid drooped even more and began to nibble. “Thank you.”

The others snickered, and Reid scowled.

“I brought you cookies.” Garcia said. “But you have to eat your lunch first.” Reid grumbled, then yelped when the woman smacked him in the back of the head. “Behave!”

The team sat around calmly as Reid ate, and once he had eaten enough to satisfy them, he was shoved into the bathroom and told to shower and dress. He emerged in another pair of pajamas, a house robe and house slippers, hair wet and tousled from towel drying it.

“That’s much better, isn’t it Dr. Reid?” Dr. Devereux said, smiling. “It’s time to say goodbye to your friends now. You have a group to attend.”

And that’s how the next three days went. The team would come to visit in the morning and make sure that Reid ate something. Then he would to go group, where he never said a word, and then he would return to his room for a bit, have lunch (though he barely ate a thing) then return to his room before having a one on one session with Dr. Devereux. Then Hotch would come by at dinner time, and Reid would eat. Dr. Devereux noticed that almost immediately.

On the fourth day, she walked into her house and set her keys down, flicking on a light.

“Hello, Dr. Devereux.”

Dr. Devereux screamed and jumped, whirling. A woman was sitting on her sofa.

“… Who are you?!”

“What is your diagnosis on Dr. Reid?” The woman asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Your patient, Dr. Reid.”

“… I can’t discuss that.” Dr. Devereux said. A moment later, a strong arm wrapped around her from behind, and a hand covered her mouth, dragging her to the kitchen. She began to struggle, but froze when the woman grabbed her hand and pressed it down onto the counter, lifting a large knife, laying the edge of the blade against the base of the woman’s small finger. Dr. Devereux’s eyes widened in horror.

“Care to try again?” The strange, dark haired woman asked. Dr. Devereux’s mouth was uncovered.

“He’s fine!” Dr. Devereux gasped, eyes wide. “A minor case of Post Traumatic Stress, but he’s recovering well.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear.” The woman hissed, glaring.

“… That’s the truth!”

“I don’t care what the truth is. He will NOT leave that place. I don’t care what diagnosis you give him, but you give him one that will keep him locked up.”

“What?! NO! That… That’s unethical!” Dr. Devereux cried, then let out a scream as the knife came down, cleaving her finger off of her hand.

“Care to try again?”

“I won’t! That poor boy has been through enough!” Another scream as another finger was severed.

“That ‘poor boy’ is a murdering pig. Are you sure?”

“I won’t do it!”

“If you won’t co-operate, I’ve found someone who will.” And the woman turned and walked out of the room. The man holding Dr. Devereux reached out and took up the knife…

The team looked up at a knock on the door, and a man walked in.

“Good morning.” The man said, giving them a small, forced smile. “I am Dr. Harris. I uh… I will be taking over Spencer’s case for Dr. Devereux.”

“What? Why?” Reid asked, looking surprised. Dr. Harris sighed and removed his glasses.

“… Dr. Devereux was… found murdered in her house a few hours ago…”

“Oh my God!” Prentiss gasped. Reid looked stunned.

“I’ve gone over all of her notes and familiarized myself with your case, Spencer.” Harris said. “And based on her notes, and Dr. Carlson’s notes, I concur with the diagnosis. Spencer, I’m moving you up to the north wing on the third floor. It is the opinion of Dr. Carlson, Dr. Devereux and myself that you be committed for long term care.” Dr. Harris watched as the shock, horror and devastation swept over the group, and his new patient paled dramatically.

“No.” Reid managed to get out.

“Come on, son. Gather your belongings. I’ll take you upstairs. And I’m afraid that I will have to ask you people to leave.” Dr. Harris said, looking at the team.

“There must be some mistake.” Hotch said.

“I’m afraid not, sir.” Dr. Harris said. “Now if you will excuse us, I need to tend to my patient.” And some orderlies ushered out the stunned team. But as soon as they left his sight, Reid finally found himself.

“No… NO!!!” He cried, terror overwhelming him. “NO!!! HOTCH!!! MORGAN!!!” He cried. The team closed their eyes collectively as they heard their youngest begin to panic and fight. “HOTCH PLEASE!!!”

Hotch stopped in his tracks.

“Aaron?” Rossi asked.

“What do I do?” Hotch gasped. “Do I leave so that he doesn’t see me when they bring him out, and let him think I’ve abandoned him? Or do I stand here and let him see me here, nearby, but standing and doing nothing to help him?”

“Hotch!” Morgan cried in annoyed frustration as Hotch’s question made Garcia burst into tears. He quickly ushered her away. Then Rossi placed an arm around Hotch’s shoulders and guided him away, too.

“I think it would be best if we were not in sight when they bring him out.” Rossi said. “It will only give him reason to pitch a bigger fuss.” Hotch nodded in agreement of this. They stepped around the corner, but there, Hotch stopped. He stared at the floor, clenching fists and jaw as he listened to his young lover’s cries as he was removed from his room.

“Hotch! Hotch please! Help me! Hotch… Hotch?” His cries became a soft gasp of shock. “A-Aaron…?” Then a whimper. “… Aaron?” And then he began to cry. “No… no no… I wanna go home! Please! Let me go home! I’m not sick… I’m not sick!!!” And then his voice faded as he was taken away. Hotch closed his eyes and slowly sank into a chair bracing his elbows on his knees and letting his face fall into his hands. Sighing, Rossi sat beside his younger colleague and gripped his shoulder.

Reid stumbled down the hall, his vision blurred by tears. In his mind, he just kept thinking the same thing…

This isn’t happening… this can’t be happening… why is this happening?!

“Spencer… this is your room.” Dr. Harris said, opening a door. Reid peered in, and stared. The room was… depressing to say the least. The walls were a putrid pale green. There was a desk and a stool, both bolted to the floor, as was the bed. It was a small, narrow twin sized cot, barely long enough for his tall frame. There was also a shelf welded to the wall over the desk. It looked like a cell. Reid’s eyes prickled, and he had trouble swallowing not only the lump of hopeless despair, but the bile that was churning up his esophagus.

“Take some time to settle in, Spencer.” Dr. Harris told him, gently pushing him further into the room. “Do whatever you need to do. If you need to scream, cry, whatever, that’s fine. As long as you don’t damage people, property or yourself. Okay?” Reid didn’t answer. Harris sighed and turned, looking at the male nurse with him. “Change out his bracelet, and keep an eye on him.” He said, then hurried back down to the first floor, walking down the hallway to where the team stood. When they saw him, they all gathered around.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Dr. Harris told them. “He’s not taking this well, as you could hear. In my professional opinion I think it will be best if you give him a week to calm down and settle in before coming back. I will keep you updated regarding his progress and if I feel you may visit sooner, I will let you know.”

Hotch frowned and shook his head, saying “With all due respect, you may be his doctor, but you just met him. I’ve known him for years. And I know him well. I think that keeping him isolated from his loved ones will only make things worse.”

“I appreciate your opinion, Agent Hotchner, but as his doctor, I must do what I feel is best. And unless something pops up to change my mind, I’m standing by my recommendation. Good day.” And Dr. Harris turned and walked away.

Once again, Garcia burst into tears.

Reid sat silently on his bed, watching as a nurse cut the plastic ID band from his wrist and replaced it with another. Reid inspected it… He was considered a High Security Patient. Reid winced. That was only one step down from the Maximum security, High risk patients… also known as the criminally insane… the psychos he had hunted down. The nurse looked at him and gave him a gentle smile.

“You okay, Spencer?” He asked. Reid didn’t respond. “I know you’re scared…” Reid tensed when the man sat down next to him on the bed. “I’m Riley.” Reid blinked at that, and Riley Jenkins passed through his mind for a few moments. Slowly, he turned and looked at Riley. The man smiled. “Look, son… You’re not the only one who’s afraid to be here. But I’m here to help you. Listen… you need anything or have any questions, you can always come to me, okay?” And he laid a hand on Reid’s shoulder.

The young man recoiled violently, flashes of his month with Coronado passing through his mind. He backed into a corner and stared at Riley with wide eyes. Riley jumped, startled, and slowly put his hands up.

“Hey… it’s okay. I won’t hurt you. Do you want me to leave?” Reid eyed him, then slowly nodded. “Okay, listen… I’ll be at the station just down the hall. You need anything, come find me or one of the others, okay?” And when Reid nodded again, the man slipped out of the room. Slowly, Reid relaxed. But he didn’t leave the corner. He hugged his knees to his chest and began rocking himself, closing his eyes and hiding his face in his folded arms.

About an hour later, Riley appeared in the doorway.

“Spencer? Lunch time.” He said. Reid didn’t move. Riley sighed, slowly approaching the youth and reaching out, taking his hand. “Come on, Spencer.” Reid allowed the man to pull him to his feet and guide him down the hall and into the cafeteria. Reid made his way to a seat himself, choosing one far away from the other patients… he didn’t want to be anywhere near them… He ignored Riley trying to convince him to sit with other people and try to start getting to know the other patients. Finally, Riley gave up and brought him his lunch. Reid just sat and stared at it. Riley went on his rounds, and when he returned fifteen minutes later Reid was gone, and his lunch sat untouched. He sighed and shook his head, then turned and left, heading to Harris’ office.

Five minutes later, he and Harris were knocking on Reid’s door. There was no answer. Harris opened it. Reid was seated on the desk, curled up and leaning against the wall, staring out the barred window. Riley sighed. The boy was the picture of misery. He had been in this profession for a good twelve years, but the sight of this boy tugged at his heartstrings like the first time he had seen a patient devastated as their world was turned upside down.

“Spencer?” Harris called, walking across the small room. “Riley tells me you didn’t eat your lunch.” Reid just tightened his arms around his knees. “Come on, son. You need to eat something.” And he reached out to put a hand on the young man’s shoulder, but the boy jerked away, still staring hard out the window. “… Alright. But I expect to see you eat at dinner. Why don’t you come out to the day room?” Reid curled up impossibly tighter, turning away from the man.

After some more futile coaxing, Dr. Harris gave up and left Reid to himself. That evening, Riley collected Reid for dinner. Once more, Reid sat at a table and just stared down at his food… mashed potatoes, green beans and meat loaf. After ten minutes, he felt a presence at his shoulder.

“Spencer?” Dr. Harris said. “You need to eat.” A couple of the other patients at the table glanced up. Slowly, hand shaking, Reid scooped up a bit of mashed potatoes and put them in his mouth. They were bland. He made a face, and forced himself to swallow. A green bean made its way down his throat next. A patient across the room let out a tremendous, thundering belch. Reid blanched at the sound, and listened to several patients laugh and cheer. Reid glanced to his left at a young man at another table who was having a lively political debate with the gravy boat. The others sitting with him eyed him. One looked at the other.

“We have a Republican gravy boat?”

“I thought the gravy tasted off…” The other said, and both snickered into their dinners.

Reid just sighed and closed his eyes, refusing to look at his food. He felt sick… lost… And his stomach clenched and twisted… he suddenly realized… he would rather be flat on his back with his legs spread open for Coronado than be where he was right now… And then he lost all semblance of control. His spoon fell from his fingers and clattered onto the table as he heaved, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Spencer?!” Harris gasped, and he and Riley jerked the young man to his feet and half carried him from the room. As soon as they were through the doors, Reid dropped to his knees and threw up. “Easy, Spencer… Relax.”

“… I… I wanna see Hotch.” The boy finally gasped.

“What?”

“Agent Hotchner. I want to see him. NOW!”

“No, Spencer. It’s dinner time. And I think it’s best if you settled in before you had any visitors.”

“I want to see him NOW! Call him! He’ll come!” Reid cried.

“Spencer—“

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!!!” Reid screamed, and shoved the man away, jumping to his feet and running down the corridor.

“Hey!” Riley yelped, chasing after him. Reid ran around the corner, heading straight for the staircase. He knew it was locked. When he reached it, he skidded to a stop and lashed out with his foot, kicking it in. It opened with a crash, the lock breaking, and Reid fled, pain shooting through his ankle and knee. Despite the pain he sped up; he could hear Riley right behind him.

He reached the ground floor and threw himself out the door, ignoring the red strip of tape on it with bold white letters. He winced when the fire alarm began to go off. But he didn’t care. He burst out of the building and fled across the lawn and to the edge of the hill.

“SPENCER!” He heard Riley call. He pushed himself and ran faster, stumbling down the hill. He tripped and cried out as he fell. He rolled over several times before he managed to stop his fall. He struggled to his feet and made his way down the hill, darting into the trees. The sun set, and the woods were dark. But he didn’t care. Wincing at the stitch in his side he fled through the trees, branches tearing at his exposed skin. But then his eyes widened.

“No…” He gasped, and threw himself up against the stone wall, staring up. It towered over him. “No no no…” He cried, and looked around. He had to get out. He had to get to Aaron! He had to get home!

He hurried over to a tree and began to climb, wincing at his throbbing ankle. He reached a limb that stretched out over the wall, and he began to slowly drag himself across. It drooped under his weight, but rested on the wall. Heart pounding, Reid inched closer and closer… but then, he heard a creak, and he froze. The woods were quiet, other than the calls of the people searching for him. Gasping, Reid began to move again. There was another creak… then a crack. Reid froze, eyes on the branch.

“Oh God…” He breathed, and lunged for the wall. With a loud snap, the branch broke and he fell. “AHHNG!!!” He cried as he hit the ground, and a fiery pain engulfed his wrist. “Ow…” He gasped, and after a long while he slowly dragging himself to curl up against the base of the tree, cradling his throbbing wrist. He shivered softly in the dark for a long time, until finally he flinched as a flashlight beam fell across him.

“Spencer?” A voice called, and then a radio crackled. “I’ve got him!” And then another flashlight joined the first. Two men ran over and knelt and Reid cried, not over the pain, but at the knowledge that he was being taken back to that place… And again, he found himself thinking that he would rather be chained to a tree in Coronado’s backyard than be where he was in that moment…

Hotch frowned as he got out of the shower… did he hear…? Yes! His phone! He hurried into the bedroom, wrapping a towel around himself and answering.

“Hotchner.”

“Agent Hotchner, this is Dr. Harris with Willow Ridge.”

“… What happened.” Hotch growled, hearing that reluctant tone in the man’s voice.

“We had an incident tonight.”

“Is my Agent hurt?!” Hotch demanded to know.

“… He got extremely upset at dinner. He threw up, and then ran. He kicked in the door to the stairs and broke out through a fire exit and ran onto the grounds. We lost him in the trees, but found him about forty five minutes later. He had tried to climb a tree to get over the wall and it broke. We found him on the ground.”

“Is he okay?!”

“Some bumps and bruises. Looks like he sprained his ankle when he kicked in the door, but he fractured his wrist from the fall from the tree. A little bump on the head. He has quiet the headache, but no sign of concussion.”

“How the hell could you let this happen?! Why did he run?!”

“… He uh... He wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Agent Hotchner, I must insist that you stay away.”

“He’s hurt and scared and asking for me!”

“And by letting him see you it will only teach him that by making a scene and possibly hurting himself, he can get what he wants. No sir. I cannot allow you to see him, but as you are his Power of Attorney and his Supervisor, I have to inform you of the incident.”

“And as his Power of Attorney, I want to see him.”

“And as his doctor, I am telling you that I will not allow this until I feel he has calmed down about his situation. And that is final, Agent Hotchner. Good evening.” And he hung up. Hotch snarled a few choice words, then hit Speed Dial 5.

“… Hotch? Is everything okay?”

“Penelope, I have a job for you…”

“Oh. Um, okay?”

“Dr. Ben Harris. Look into him. I want to know anything about lawsuits, criminal, civil, malpractice… I want to know about any and all allegations, investigations, complaints and reprimands.”

“Oh. Yessir! If there is anything on his record, it will be on your desk tomorrow morning, afternoon at the latest!”

“Thank you Penelope. Good night.”
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Edge of Insanity