A/N: Alrighty, this is the last chapter for this story in the Bad Penny series. The next one is already finished. I'm working hard to improve my skills and add in more character depth to balance out the character whump! Always pushing for better. Reviews are always wanted and begged for! I hope you enjoyed it! Keep an eye out for the sequel, The Papercut Murders.

Chapter 10

Sandpaper lined the inside of his eyelids and they were unnaturally heavy. There was a strange blend of white noise and total silence around him. There was a vague sense that he should be in pain but it was dull and distant. There were memories just out of reach he was sure were urgent but he resigned to having to wait until he had the energy. He sucked in a deep slow breath his lungs feeling reluctant. When he finally got his eyes open everything was too bright and too white. The sandpaper feeling transformed into a sticky sensation and it took a moment for his vision to clear. He was in a hospital room which lead his mind to recognize the drugs flowing through his system.

"Hey lover." He blinked and sucked in another breath before finding Garcia sitting next to him looking all sorts of worried and relieved.

"Baby Girl."

"Oh how sweet it is to hear your chocolate syrupy voice again" he grinned then gulped the water greedily when she gave it to him only have it snatched again with a light slap at his shoulder. "Slow down baby you'll get sick if you drink too fast."

"Sorry baby girl, haven't had water in days." He took the water in controlled sips this time.

"I know. They said you were severely dehydrated and malnourished. Oh my poor chocolate bunny" she petted his head for a moment until his thirst was slaked. Before he could ask any of the questions surfacing through the drug haze she skipped to the phone and dialed, "Hey Hotch, my chocolate thunder is awake!" he chuckled while struggling to sit up.

"Where're my clothes? Where's Spencer? Did you get the unsub?" he started to push himself off the bed ignoring how hard his arm shook.

"No you don't, you're not getting out of that bed" he pressed him back down to the bed with the mere force of her pinky pressed to his forehead. She ignored his growl of irritation that he couldn't resist such a feeble subduing gesture. "You've been out cold for two days with a severe infection, you have a broken clavicle and had an aggravated grade three concussion. Your sugar bum is staying in that bed until I say so, not the doctors, not Hotch, me." He chuckled with a puff of discontent to follow.

"I'm fine baby girl, I gotta see Reid."

"You lay down and behave or I will punish you." Morgan lay back in defeat accepting she would overpower him every time and just how exhausted he felt.

"Alright, no need for threats but you gotta feed me some info baby girl. What's going on? How's Reid?"

"I think I can answer a few of those questions." Hotch let himself into the room. "How are you feeling?" Morgan grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine, why won't anyone believe I'm fine?"

"You were in a seven hour surgery, borderline septicemic, and unconscious for two days, it'll go by faster if you cooperate." Morgan muttered under his breath but settled further into the bed compliantly.

"Good boy." Garcia patted his head pleased, "I'll go get you some food"

"Talk to me Hotch. What happened? Where's Reid?"

"The unsub was a man named Chaplin. He lost his job and killed his cheating wife and her lover but got trapped on the scene when we arrived. He forced us to shoot him." Hotch began.

"And Reid, how is he? Don't tell me he's dead Hotch, don't tell me that."

"He's not dead, but he's in bad shape, he had had four or five heart attacks before we arrived, some of them serious ones, and another two since he got to the hospital. He had a significant amount of water in his lungs, early signs of frostbite and a severe case of pneumonia."

"Damn, the bastard was drowning him in the bathtub and made him stay outside one night just to piss me off."

"It's not your fault, we know you both did what you could."

"Yeah well it wasn't enough." He resisted the growing exhaustion.

"It was more than anyone could have expected of you. Chaplin was cautious, he always left you restrained, unconscious or separated."

"Alrighty I brought you some scrumptious chicken soup with salt crackers and juice. They said eat it slowly so you don't upset your tummy." Garcia fluttered around them.

"I'm going to check on Reid. Take good care of him Garcia." He went up a floor to the intensive care unit which was even quieter than all the others. There were a few people sitting and waiting solemnly avoiding the gaze of passers. He waited at the door for a moment observing JJ asleep her hand holding Reid's hand. He looked frail underneath he bruises and fevered sweats. He still shook roughly, eyes sunken, fidgeting constantly in his sleep. "JJ." he put a hand on her shoulder knowing the touch would wake her.

"Hotch." she stretched back popping with dark circles under her eyes.

"Go home, get some real sleep and a hot meal."

"I'm fine."

"JJ, go home."

"Fine, you'll call if he wakes up?"

"Of course, the doctor's said it could be any time. They're trying to keep him off all sedatives and most drugs, something about not straining his system." He gave her a good push out the door so she couldn't stall any longer before taking her chair. He couldn't stop the impulse to press a palm to his forehead and neck like he did with Jack surprised when his head tilted into his palm.

"Reid, are you awake?" he got no response and pulled his hand away surprised by Spencer's groan. He quickly replaced his hand on his forehead and Reid instantly pressed into his palm. He left it this time instinctively rubbing his forehead with his thumb which seemed to soothe him further. It was the only responsiveness he showed. He kept relatively quiet through the night only occasionally stirring and muttering incomprehensibly. More often than not he seemed pinched with discomfort. The doctors came and went, sometimes saying he was improving and sometimes saying he was holding steady. It must have been near three in the morning when he saw Gideon appear in the doorway.

"It's always the youngest that suffer the most."

"It shouldn't be like this. He should be the most protected, of all of us he's the most innocent."

"He's a tough kid."

"Tougher than he lets show but he shouldn't have to go through this. We need to protect him better."

"Hotch we couldn't have prevented this. We had no way of knowing what happened at that third house. Reid would hate it but it was a stroke of bad luck."

"He would hate calling it luck." A groan interrupted their conversation. They expected him to settle again like before but he remained distressed. "Reid, Reid are you awake?" Hotch rubbed his forehead again feeling hopeful seeing the kid respond. It took a few minutes before he actually opened his eyes and stared bleary and vacant.

"Reid, you with us?" Gideon stepped up putting a hand on his elbow. Another minute and a bit of clarity returned to his eyes and he began to look around sluggishly.

"Reid?"

"Wha? Hotch?" he slurred faintly.

"Reid, do you know where you are?" Reid tried to sit up further but stopped before anyone could reprimand him with a wince at the dull ache in his chest. He swallowed thickly then looked back to Hotch and Gideon abandoning his hope at movement.

"Where m'I?" he shifted a bit still uncomfortable.

"You're at the hospital, you've been here for almost three days now" Reid tried to focus his thoughts but he felt fuzzy, stupid.

"Was h-hostage, car…Morgan!" he bolted up remembering the days with the unsub on the run but he couldn't remember what happened at the end or where Morgan was now.

"Hey, take it easy, you need to keep calm, you've had several bad heart attacks." Hotch pushed him back down to the bed glancing at the heart monitor fearfully until it settled into the normal pace, established by the drugs, again. He prevented any further questions with a glass of water which was eagerly accepted.

"Heart attacks?" He was having trouble tracking the facts.

"The unsub, Chaplin, used a taser on you severely enough to cause numerous heart attacks."

"Oh." he felt drained eyes getting heavy.

"Get some sleep, your both safe now, everything will be okay" Reid drifted into sleep again completely at ease with the team near.

Somewhere in a distant, dark room filled will mold and musk a lone figure sat with a bowl of macaroni watching the news report play across the screen. His interest was aroused by the spree killer, Chaplin, he thought the name was, taking two FBI men hostage, robbing banks and convenience marts, murdering most anyone that crossed his path. Then they displayed the photos of the agents and he jumped up, macaroni spilling everywhere, sinewy fingers stroking the photo of Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Beautiful."