Chapter Text
Gently shutting the door to Rossi and Morgan’s hotel room after finding the two agents crashed in their beds, Hotch threw open his own door and shut it behind him. He dropped his stuff on the floor. “Did you already--” He stopped talking as he saw the bundle of sheets on Reid’s bed move around. Spencer’s head poked out from his sheets. Cursing silently, Hotch shifted through his bag. He set his shower supplies for the morning.
He sat over the covers of his bed and pulled out his phone. He shot Jessica a message to check to see if Jack had already gone to sleep. She was typing a reply when a loud thump caused Hotch to drop his phone on the sheets and look over at the commotion.
Spencer’s singular leg was propped up on the bed. His other leg had slid off with the rest of his body. His head was pressed against the ground.
Hotch jumped out of his bed and lifted Spencer off the ground. Upon contact, Spencer’s eyes fluttered open. “Hotch?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes once he was sat down. He yawned, stretching his arms in the air, before blinking a few times. “What’s wrong?”
“You fell,” he stated. “Look down for a second.” In his sleepy state, Spencer glanced at his lap. “With your head.” He ducked down. Hotch felt for a bump. “You’re good. Try and not fall out this time.”
“I won’t,” Spencer mumbled, laying down. Hotch stood up and walked over to Spencer’s belongings and pulled out his blanket. He placed it over him and tucked him in. “G’night, Hotch.”
“Good night, Reid.” Hotch reaches for the bedside lamp to turn it off, but Spencer stops him.
“Can we leave it on?” Spencer’s voice is quiet, shy. Hotch hasn’t heard his voice drop that low, become that shy, since a while ago. It reminded him of when Spencer first came to the BAU. He was so little back then. He still is, at least, that’s how it seems to the rest of them.
Hotch leaves the lamp on. He settles back on his own bed and he picks up his phone. Jessica had replied to him. He got up to take the call out on the balcony, but a light whimper distracted him, once again, from his phone.
Spencer had kicked his sheets off of him. His head was leaning off the edge again, and he twisted his body into a ball. His feet kicked out suddenly, and his toes were pointed. His face was a dark red, and his chapped lips were parted. His chest hitched quickly, trying to get a deep breath in but failing miserably each time. His sweats clung to his skin from his sweat.
Hotch turned on the fan in their room, amping it up high. He stood out on the balcony, called Jack for a bit, but he hung up the phone once he peeked in their room and saw Spencer was awake.
“Fall out again?” Hotch teased, shutting the door behind him. Spencer shook his head.
“It’s cold,” he mumbled. “Do you mind if I turn it off?”
Hotch blinked a few times. “You’re cold?” He was shaking. Hotch placed a hand to his forehead. His face had already been beet red, but a small blush had dusted his cheeks.
“Hotch, what’re you--”
“You’re burning up,” Hotch answered simply. “Lay back down.” When Reid didn’t move, Hotch deepened his gaze. “Get some rest, Reid.”
Spencer made his way back to his bed. He curled up in his sheets and fell asleep. Hotch, however, couldn’t have sleep come easy to him, like Spencer had. He lay on his back, but his mind can’t empty. He thinks about Reid, the youngest member of his team. The poor boy’s overworked himself again.
It’d started since that morning.
Reid hadn’t been late. Cutting it close, sure, but he wasn’t late. He showed up to work with wet frizzy hair and with his clothes clinging to his skin. The others had asked, but he couldn’t give them a good answer. It was stupid, really. How can you explain to your teammates that you fell asleep in the shower?
He would’ve slept through work, too. He only woke up when he covered the drain to his shower, the bath water building up until the point his face was engulfed and he started to drown. He woke up gagging.
His teammates are all profilers. They figured he was tired, maybe dozed in a little too late, so he didn’t have time to dry off. Understandable. What they didn’t figure was the water in his lungs.
Spencer wakes up a few times in the night, and Hotch witnesses a great few of them. He shoots up in his bed, out of breath, clenching the blanket he brought from home tight in his fists. He coughs and in an attempt not to wake up his Unit Chief, he burrows his mouth deep into his blanketed fist. A couple times he runs to the bathroom, and Hotch tries to ignore the vomiting.
In the morning, Hotch wakes up to the alarm set on his phone. He knocks on the bathroom door. There’s no reply.
“Reid?” He called, knocking louder. Instantly, there’s a thump, followed by a loud clutter, and the doorknob twists. Reid’s toothpaste, shampoo, and conditioner lay on the floor. His hair was stuck in every direction. They stared at each other for a few seconds; Hotch, observing, could tell Reid had fallen asleep by the toilet. He kept his mouth shut to keep from embarrassing him. Reid pushed past him, leaving him to his shower.
Hotch always had to be mindful of how he treated Reid. He was more vulnerable than the others, not that he’d ever say that in front of him. He’s not a child, but in some ways, Reid never had a proper upbringing, and it sometimes leaks through when he’s not careful to hide it. Times like when he’s sick and refuses to admit it.
“A fever?” Morgan spits in the sink, washing his mouth out. Rossi has his go bag all packed up. “Nothing serious, though?”
“Nothing serious,” Hotch confirmed, “But I’d rather not take chances.” Hotch leaves them to finish getting their stuff ready.
Morgan sits on his bed as he packs his bag. “Stuck with babysitting duty?”
Morgan shakes his head. “Not like that,” he answers, zipping it up. “Reid doesn’t get sick often, you know. And if it gets bad, it’s not like he’d tell one of us.”
Rossi raised an eyebrow. “You’re speaking from experience.”
Morgan slung his bag over his shoulder. He smiled wryly. “Experiences,” he corrected. “That kid never asks for help.”
Morgan’s had to watch over him like this a couple times before, not always at Hotch’s request. It was no secret Reid was a bit reckless… But he didn’t have to be told to keep an eye on him. He already did.
Usually, he’s okay. Sometimes Reid connects too much with the unsub, and it leaves him dangling. After Tobias, after Adam… Cases like that, he’s unstable. He’s a time bomb. This time is no different. He’s staggering all over the place, and Morgan can’t figure out why.
Reid has been stumbling over his feet. He almost tripped trying to get into his chair at the round table. “We just got a new victim,” JJ informed them.
“Emily, you’re with me,” Hotch said, getting up. “Reid, stay here and work on the geographical profile. Morgan.” He motioned over to him.
The two left, leaving Rossi, Morgan, and Reid. JJ had left to speak with the victim’s family. Reid sipped at his coffee, making a face. He cringed, crinkling his nose. Rossi had looked up from his tablet to watch Reid gag at the taste. “Too bitter?”
Reid didn’t reply. He cracked the lid open and sent in his plastic spoon. After some surfing, he pulled out a soggy packet of sugar. He scowled.
Morgan burst out laughing. “Reid, man, you gotta be out of it.” Rossi, frowning, watched Reid toss it in the trash. “You didn’t even open it.” Reid didn’t look nearly as amused as Morgan.
He stood up from the table. “It’s not funny, Morgan,” he griped. “I’m gonna go make some coffee.”
Morgan and Rossi nose dived into their work. They became so self absorbed they didn’t notice Reid had never came back. “Where’s Reid?” Hotch had returned from the crime scene, and he had Emily with him.
Morgan looked around. “He went to get coffee,” Rossi replied. “A while ago.”
One of the officers outside was laughing hysterically. Emily had asked him what was so funny, to which he replied, “Some FBI agent fell asleep while pouring his coffee.”
Reid.
Hotch took off, the others following him, and he stopped abruptly at the collapsed figure in front of him. A girl was kneeled down at his side. “Are you okay? Sir?”
Morgan stepped forward and kneeled down. He scooped Reid off the floor, and the boy genius started to stir awake. “M...Morgan?” he whispered. His hoarse voice struggled to speak. “Let me down.”
Ignoring him, Morgan asked the girl, “Do you have anywhere I could lay him down?”
“We have a first aid station here, actually,” she replied. “It’s right over there.” She pointed over to a small room, and Morgan smiled and gave her a thanks before walking off.
Reid wriggled in his grip. “Morgan!” He squeaked, trying to roll out.
“Relax, Pretty Boy,” Morgan sighed, shifting him up on his shoulder.
Reid gave him a tiny kick and pushed himself off and on to the floor. People were staring. Reid staggered to get back on his feet. “I don’t need to lay down.” He started to storm off when Morgan grabbed his wrist. Without looking, Reid slapped his hand off of him. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.”
Turning back around, Reid took a few steps before tripping.
“That’s what I thought,” Morgan sighed, picking him up again. This time, Reid didn’t protest. He let Morgan carry him into the room the PD had set up for them. He dropped him gently into his chair.
“We gotta go to the crime scene,” Reid said, but his eyes were closing. “We gotta…”
Reid fell asleep.
In a matter of hours, the case was done. Honestly, they probably didn’t even have to fly all the way out for it. The PD should’ve been able to handle it themselves, but that doesn’t matter at this point. They saved a boy today.
Reid woke up when Morgan picked him up again. “I can walk,” he insisted.
He raised an eyebrow. “So you won’t fall if I put you down?”
Reid bit his lip. “No,” he said, and Morgan set him down. Reid made his way to the jet just fine, energized after his nap. “Told you,” he said, gagging into his fist. “I…” A coughing fit took over him and he fell down to the comfort of a couch.
“Reid, when was the last time you slept?” Hotch asked, grabbing the attention of a few profilers.
“Today,” he replied. “Thirty-seven minutes ago and twenty-six seconds.” He had only slept for an hour or so. Wasn’t good enough.
“You know what I meant,” Hotch said. “Get some rest.”
The jet took off a small bit later. Morgan was listening to his music, and Emily had fallen asleep over her paperwork.
Rossi’s voice plucked some of them away from their nap or whatever they were doing. “Reid, that doesn’t look like sleeping.”
Reid, with his face buried in a book, looked up. “I’m resting,” he corrected. “Reading relaxes me.”
“ Reid-ing ,” Emily giggled.
JJ rolled her eyes. “You so stole that,” she said, and Emily stuck her tongue out.
“Still funny.”
Rossi cringed. “No.” He shook his head.
The conversation got Hotch to intervene. “Again, Reid, you knew what I meant,” he said, walking over to sit down by him. He snatched his book out of his hands. “Go to sleep.”
Knowing better than to argue, Reid laid back on the couch. He coughed every so often, but he didn’t sleep. After a while, with a sigh, Hotch came back over. Opening Reid’s book, he settled.
Without explanation, Hotch started reading his book aloud. Reid had settled easily, and his eyelids started to drop over his eyes. It didn’t take long for him to crash. After Hotch finished one of the longer poems, Reid fell right asleep.
***
Emily leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. She blinked her crusty eyes as she shut her computer off. Wiping at her eyes, she stood up, pausing when she noticed Reid was gone.
Morgan walked in, late, with a bag in his hands. He placed the bag of food on his desk, pausing at what was on his floor. “Is that… Mine?”
Emily came over, partially for the food, but she also wanted to see what was under his desk. Sure enough, Reid was curled up underneath with Morgan’s jacket.
“Ooh, finally,” Garcia said, popping up behind them. She fished through the bag to find her order, but she stopped when she saw Reid. She gasped, pulling out her phone, and took a quick picture.
Morgan’s heart had melted. “Reid?” He poked him.
Reid sat up, whamming his head on the desk in the process. Morgan helped him out from under.
Reid, still on the ground with his legs crossed over one another, was drowning in the oversized coat. “M’ cold,” he mumbled weakly.
“That’s it,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna take you home.”
He swiped him off the ground. Reid reached for his bag at his desk, and as if on cue, Hotch appeared and grabbed it. He helped load the gear into Morgan’s car.
Reid fell asleep in the car. His forehead was pressed against the window with his eyes squeezed shut. Morgan glanced at him and smiled to himself before returning his eyes to the road. He tried to avoid the potholes the best he could to keep him sleeping steadily, but a speed bump had to come up inevitably, and when it did, Spencer didn’t wake up. He was still asleep when Morgan hit the bump head on; Spencer slammed his head back into the window, still sleeping soundly.
He stifled a laugh, concern aside, and pulled into his driveway. “We’re here,” Morgan announced, nudging him slightly. Reid stirred, yawning.
“Morning, Morgan,” Reid greeted, blinking. He looked around to see that it was nighttime. “And goodnight!” Reid stumbled out of the car, picking up his bag. “See you tomorrow.”
Reid shut the door, gave a final wave, then headed up his stairs. Morgan watched, waiting to make sure he gets in safely, as he does every single time he drops someone off, and he gasps when he sees Reid double over on the railing. He gets out of his car and scoops him up. “Let’s have a sleepover at my place tonight, okay?” he asked, leading him back in. Reid was too tired to care.
Once they arrived at Morgan’s house, Reid got settled in on the couch. He was breathing heavily while searching for the remote. He grabbed the basket of movies and rifled through to find one to watch. Morgan poked out from his kitchen moments later with two cups of hot chocolate, some cough drops, and some medicine. Reid happily grabbed the hot chocolate, but just as his lips touched the lid of the drink, Morgan swatted at him. “Not yet.” Reid pouted, putting down the cup on the side table. Morgan pulled his first aid kit out and cleaned off his thermometer. “Open.” Reid stuck his tongue out reluctantly and Morgan slid it in. “You find a movie yet?” Reid picked up two movies and held them up. His thermometer beeped then, and Morgan took it out. “100.1? Jesus Christ, kid…” He pulled out some medicine and gave it to him. “Do you need some water?” Reid shook his head frantically.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, sipping his hot chocolate. Morgan slid the disc in to Zombieland and he dimmed the lights. By the time he sat back down, Reid’s eyes were closed. His eyes would flutter open every so often, but they’d close afterwards after tiring himself out. He took a box of tissues out of the kit and blew his nose and tossed it into his waste bucket.
Halfway through the movie, Reid’s shaking had become so apparent that Morgan finally noticed and got up to get a blanket. He covered him in the fuzzy blanket, and he grinned. “Thanks!” He cheered, snuggling in.
“You could’ve just asked.” Morgan crossed his arms once he sat down back on the couch next to him. “You can always ask me for anything. You know that, right?”
“Mhm.” Reid was still shaking.
Morgan sighed. “Come here, then,” he said, patting the seat next to him. Reid moved then, leaving his empty cup on the table. He snuggled against Morgan, absorbing his warmth. He coughed into his fist. Morgan wordlessly passed over the cough drops. Reid took one in his mouth and closed his eyes.
A loud choking distracted him from the movie. “Reid!” Morgan threw him in a heimlich maneuver. A cough drop flew out of his mouth and landed on the table. “Reid… We can finish the movie later.” Reid nodded weakly, falling over on the couch. His legs dangled off the edge of the couch.
Morgan turned off the tv and shut the lights off, leaving a lamp on so Reid wouldn’t get scared. He stole one last glance at him before smiling to himself. “Sweet dreams, man,” he mumbled, shutting the door to his own.
He woke up a few times during the night to the sound of vomiting. Every time he went out to check on him, his face was ducked into his basket. “It’s okay,” Morgan consoled, rubbing circles into his back. “You’re okay. Here, let’s get some medicine in you.”
He returned with some water and some pills and held them out. “They’ll help your stomach,” he promised, and Reid took them.
“I’m sorry,” Reid apologized, shivering. “I’m sorry.”
Not sure what he was apologizing for, Morgan frowned. “You’re still shivering,” he stated. “You can sleep in my bed.”
“No, no,” Reid mumbled. “I’ll be okay. You’ve done enough already.”
“Come on,” Morgan insisted. He tucked Reid under his sheets, layering his comforter on top, and piling him in blankets. After he finally stopped shivering, Morgan finally relaxed.
“I don’t wanna kick you out of your bed,” Reid said, watching Morgan get up to leave. He sat up in the bed, reaching for him. “Please.”
Morgan settled in, then, and let the sick kid curl up next to him. “Tell anyone at work about this, and I’ll kill you,” Morgan said, snuggling up to him. Reid muttered something under his breath happily, and he fell asleep.