it's safer to kiss

The day progresses about as normally as it can without Spencer. The briefing goes a little smoother without the interruptions and tangents the youngest, newest agent likes to interject, and the rest of the team are forced to do far more research for their consults rather than calling across the bullpen for Spencer to yell back the answer (usually attached to another long-winded and mildly endearing explanation full of backstory).

There’s a sense of unease in the air around them, a slight tinge of worry on everyone’s faces at the knowledge that Spencer’s currently undergoing surgery. Still, with a job like theirs, they can’t generally afford much distraction, and the mysteries that underline every moment of their day do well to keep their minds off it.

Or at least they do until Hotch’s phone rings with an unknown number around 3pm.

“Aaron Hotchner,” he says into the phone, doing his best to keep the sceptical curiosity from his tone as he narrows his eyes and looks out the window at the pouring October rain.

“Good afternoon Mr Hotchner,” a young man’s voice sounds out over the line. “My name’s Samuel, and I’m calling on behalf of George Washington University Hospital. I understand that you’re the emergency contact for Dr Spencer Reid, is that correct?”

Hotch doesn’t know whether to relax or not. On the one hand, at least this isn’t a horrible surprise — he’s had his fair share of psychopath threats, and he’s really not in the mood for another one this afternoon. He already knows Spencer is ill, but why would they be ringing him again if he's already aware of that fact?

“Yes, that’s correct.” He internally curses himself at the slight waver in his voice, effectively shattering his eternally composed facade. At least Samuel’s the only one around to hear it, and he probably gets a lot worse than a wavering voice on a daily basis.

“I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been a complication with Dr Reid’s surgery this afternoon. Unfortunately, as the surgeons were closing up, he began to haemorrhage badly, and the operation has obviously been extended as they look for the cause of the bleed and, hopefully, repair it.”

Hotch doesn’t quite know what to say, so initially, he doesn’t say anything. He isn’t often rendered speechless — he’s replied instantly to gruesome threats on his and his family’s lives; he’s stared into a serial killer’s unflinchingly as he’s forced to listen to some of the most macabre tales he’s ever heard, but the sentence telling him that Spencer Reid’s life is in danger is the only one he’s ever come across able to completely stop his heart in its tracks.

His heart in his mouth, he swallows. “Uh, right— do I— do I need to come down?”

He doesn’t even have it in him to recoil at the sympathy in Samuel’s reply. “If you’d like to, sir, you’re more than welcome to, but he isn’t expected to come out of surgery for another couple of hours, and it will take a little longer than that for him to come around from the anaesthesia.”

It was a redundant question. Hotch is going down to the hospital even if he has to wait three weeks to see Spencer’s eyes flutter open.

As soon as he gets off the phone, he hurriedly packs his bag before bursting into the corridor and tapping insistently on Rossi’s door.

“Aaron?” Rossi asks, his face twisted in concern as Hotch enters the room without any of his usual calm restraint, anxiety and urgency written across his expression in a way it isn’t even when a victim’s life is on the line. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Spencer,” he replies, and he realises that this might be the first time he’s actually used the junior agent’s first name. “He haemmoraged during surgery, and I’ve gotta get down to the hospital.”

“Wait, slow down, Aaron. Is he stable? Is he okay?”

Hotch huffs a shaky breath, feeling panic consume him for a short second before he’s able to squash it down once more. “No, no, uh— he’s still in surgery.”

Rossi starts, confused. “Then why are you heading to the hospital, Aaron? You’ll just be sat there waiting. It could be hours before he’s out, I mean that kind of complication could lengthen—”

“I know,” Hotch interrupts impatiently, not in the mood to hear anybody speculate on Spencer’s condition. God, he feels sick. “And I don’t care. Spencer needs me, Dave. This is exactly what I signed up for when I agreed to be his emergency contact, and I’m not about to let him down.”

Rossi sighs, clearly realising he’s not going to convince him. “Alright. What do you need to me to do?”

The team is gathered in the briefing room only minutes later, and Hotch doesn’t waste any time jumping into it. He’s itching to be on the road and on his way to Spencer.

“There was a complication in Reid’s surgery this afternoon,” he explains bluntly, glad that this time he’s able to keep his spiralling emotions under a little more control. “I don’t know much, but I know that he’s still in surgery and they’re attempting to locate the site of the bleed. I’m heading down to the hospital right now and I’ll keep you all updated.”

He watches sadly as guilt and distress play out across his team’s faces, and he wishes he could take it all away from them.

“Is he— is he gonna—” Penelope can’t quite make herself say it, but Hotch knows instantly what she means by the look of horror in her eyes and the tears already making their way down her cheeks.

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment in a vain attempt to compose himself. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, and as much as his emotions might have been locked up tight only seconds ago, his voice is thick, and he feels his eyes glaze over. “I hope not.”

“We should’ve been there,” JJ says miserably, not quite crying but looking well on her way, her distraught expression mirroring Penelope’s. “He shouldn’t have had to go through this alone. He was probably— he was probably in pain and suffering and called an ambulance or drove himself to the hospital, and he was all by himself, we should’ve been there, oh my god.”

Her own words are enough to tip her over the edge, and she begins to sob, turning her face into Elle’s shoulder as the three women attempt to comfort one another.

“Us being there wouldn’t have made much of a difference,” Hotch tries to say, “not when the complication happened anyway.”

He can’t talk, though, because he’s about to go and sit on a hard plastic chair in a cold and sterile waiting room potentially for hours, just to be closer to Spencer; just to make himself feel a little bit better about this god awful situation.

“I’m coming with you to the hospital,” Derek says determinedly, as soon as the shock has worn off and Penelope, currently pressed into his side and wrapped under a comforting arm, has calmed down a little.

“Derek—”

“No, Hotch, that’s my man out there, and I’m not— I’m not leaving him to go through this alone.”

“None of us are, Derek,” Hotch says heavily, but he knows he won’t be able to stop the other man, so he gives in. “Alright. Anyone who wants to come to the hospital with me can, but you have to prepare yourself for a long wait. He’s still in surgery and we have no idea how long it’ll take to finish and for him to come around.”

“We don’t care,” Elle says, her voice perhaps the most sombre Hotch has ever heard it, “we’re not taking the chance that Spencer wakes up alone.”

With the rest of the team’s affirming nods, it’s decided.

Hotch drives Derek and Penelope to the hospital, Elle and JJ taking another SUV, while Rossi decides to hold the fort at Quantico. Thankfully, the traffic is minimal, and before they know it, they’re pulling into the parking lot and all piling into the entrance.

They follow the signs to the General Surgery department, and Hotch goes up to speak to the lady behind the desk, informing the staff of their arrival while the others linger a couple of feet back. All in all, they’re sat in the waiting room less than an hour after Hotch initially received the notification of Spencer’s condition.

They’re the only ones in the small room, so it’s unsettlingly quiet, the only noise filling the air the uncomfortable shifting of fabric against the vinyl of the chairs. Derek leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he hangs his head, and Elle and JJ cuddle up together in the corner across from the rest of them, whispering almost silently to one another as they seek comfort in one another. Penelope sits rigidly upright, staring at the wall opposite her as tears stream down her face.

Hotch observes them all and wishes there was something more he could do for them than whatever this strange little pity party is. He lets them stew in their own silence for a couple of minutes before the unspoken tension and guilt radiating from every single team member really starts to bother him.

“Do you remember the first time Spencer toured the bullpen?” Hotch says into the silence, an edge of humour in his tone as he quirks an eyebrow.

Derek smiles, lifting his head and looking in his direction for the first time since they sat down. “When he tripped up the stairs and banged his forehead on the top step?” he chuckles. “His whole week was spent with a cut and a giant bruise smack bang in the middle of his face.”

The rest of the team is snapped out of their stupor at the mention of that memory.

Elle laughs properly, lifting her head from JJ’s shoulder. “I called him Harry Potter for months.”

Penelope gasps. “Yes! It left a tiny scar! Aww, that was so cute.”

“It certainly threw us into the deep end of life with Spencer Reid,” Hotch chuckles warmly.

“And what about the first time he came with us on the case and broke the coffee machine at the precinct on the very first day?” JJ laughs.

“I don’t know how that boy even made it to twenty-two,” Derek says fondly, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat, relaxing.

They all bask for a minute in the amusing memories of Spencer’s mishaps, but Hotch knows there’s so much more to the younger man than clumsiness and social faux pas.

“Remember that time he stayed late for a week just to help one of the junior agents with her caseload so she could take care of her sick son?”

Penelope nods, eyes big and wide. “And the time he taught himself how to cook just so he could make lunch for Anderson while he was taking care of his sick grandmother?”

“One time he came to my house after work to bring me some soup from his favourite restaurant, just because I’d told him it smelt good at lunch,” JJ admits.

“Yeah,” Derek muses. “That kid would do anything to help someone else out, even at his own expense.”

There’s a short pause, a moment of reflection, before Elle speaks up. “We fucked up.”

“We really did,” JJ agrees instantly, sounding as distraught as she looks.

“He was in pain,” Derek says sadly, looking up from his hands at the rest of them, “and he didn’t trust us enough to call us.”

They’ve all been thinking it, but hearing it said out loud just about breaks Hotch’s heart in two.

“Well,” Hotch rationalises, “we just have to do everything in our power to make sure that never happens again.”

“That’s a good resolution if I’ve ever heard one,” Penelope agrees, sounding stronger than she has since they first heard the news. “From here on out, Spencer Reid will never have to feel alone again.”

They spend the next couple of hours reminiscing on some of their best memories of Spencer and counselling one another through the guilt of how they’d treated their youngest member. It’s not like anyone’s been outright cruel, but none of them has made the effort they wish they had, and they all admit that they could’ve done more to make Spencer feel included, like the valued and loved member of their team he is.

Eventually, though, the surgeon comes out to find them.

“Family of Spencer Reid?”

They all stand up instantly, crowding around the doctor eagerly in anxious expectation. Thankfully, though, most of them are profilers — even JJ and Penelope are excellent people-readers — and bad news isn’t anywhere in his expression or body language. Hotch feels a good chunk of the tension ease out of the group as soon as the doctor appears.

“Dr Reid pulled through the surgery, and he’s currently sleeping off the remainder of the anaesthesia in his room, which I’ll take you to in a minute,” the doctor starts, smiling at them as they all relax fully at the knowledge their teammate will be okay. “We removed his appendix successfully, and we managed to stop the bleeding. Dr Reid has an excess of Protein C and Protein S in his blood, which is not usually medically significant, but these are the body’s natural anticoagulants, so when there’s too much in someone’s body, it prevents clotting and promotes abnormal bleeding.

“We eventually stopped the bleeding with antifibrinolytic drugs, but he received three blood transfusions to keep him stable. He should recover quickly with a course of these drugs to prevent post-operative bleeding and other standard post-procedure medicine that he would’ve been prescribed with or without the complications. I’ll take you to his room now, if you’d all like to follow me.”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Penelope whispers to Hotch as they follow the doctor’s quick pace through the sterile hallways towards Spencer’s room on the ward, “I didn’t understand a word of that.”

Hotch chuckles warmly. “I think the most important thing he said,” he whispers back, smiling at her, “is that Spencer’s gonna be just fine.”

Once the doctor leaves them alone, they get comfortable around Spencer’s bed, settling in for what will probably be another hour before Spencer comes round. Hotch and Penelope take one side, and Derek, Elle, and JJ sit opposite them, all watching fondly for a couple of minutes as Spencer sleeps soundly, his face squished against the pillow. It might look a little creepy, sure, but just minutes ago, they weren’t sure they’d ever see their friend alive again, so drinking in the sight of him sleeping soundly is just what they need right now.

“He’s too adorable,” Penelope coos as she brushes a gentle hand through his hair. Hotch watches her warmly, knowing that she’d definitely made the most effort to befriend Spencer, and this has probably been the hardest on her out of all of them. He’s definitely heard of more than one Dr Who marathon evening.

“He really is,” Derek chuckles. “He’s making the rest of us look bad.”

“To be fair, we have just spent the last couple of hours in a hospital waiting room,” Elle reasons, but the rest of them instantly turn to look at her incredulously.

“Yeah, and he just spent the last couple of hours bleeding out, babe,” JJ laughs. “He’s still got us beat.”

Elle winces. “Fair enough.”

They chat for a little bit, all livened up by the sight of Spencer again, before the conversation gives way to quiet again, and they all disappear into their own heads, processing the day’s events in all their uniquely different ways.

It’s not long before the silence is broken again, though.

“Don’t you guys feel kinda shitty that it took Spencer almost dying for us to really realise just how incredible he is?” Derek asks, a guilty look plaguing his expression once more.

“Yes,” Hotch admits, turning to look at him with an open, wise expression. “But the alternative was not realising it at all.”

A little over an hour after they first enter his room, Spencer begins to show signs of waking up, and they all watch him eagerly, waiting to see those big brown eyes again.

His eyes flutter open tiredly, but his face breaks into the loveliest smile as soon as he spots the team gathered around his bed. “You came,” he grins dopily, still sleepy from the anaesthesia.

“We did,” Hotch says, caressing the hand he’s been holding since they entered his bedroom. He’s always felt… protective of the kid, but it’s remarkable how quickly protectiveness spiralled into downright paternalism. “And we’re not leaving until you’re sick and tired of us.”

Spencer stirs, stretching within the confines of the bed a little as he smiles at them all. “Not possible.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, Spence,” Penelope says through a watery smile as she lays a warm palm on his forehead. “Derek’s gonna eat his crisps with his mouth open and JJ and Elle are gonna flirt relentlessly, and Hotch is gonna tell us off whenever we do anything even slightly against the rules, and I’m gonna hug you constantly, and it’s gonna be a nightmare, just you wait.”

Spencer’s eyes close against his will as sleep reclaims him. Still, before he’s knocked out again, he smiles again and mumbles a sleepy, happy, “can’t wait,” and that’s more than enough for all of them as they do exactly as they promised and camp out beside his bed, eagerly waiting for the next time Spencer wakes up, and they get to spend more time with the 22-year-old genius who’s managed to worm his way into every single one of their hearts without any of them noticing.

It’s funny, Hotch thinks ten months later with Jack tucked into his side, his team sprawled out across his living room, and Spencer fast asleep in his lap as the last credits of their movie night roll, how some of the best times of your life begin with the worst days imaginable.

He supposes it really is true what they say. After rain comes a rainbow.

Cheesy ending, I knowwww, but I couldn't resist! I hope you guys enjoyed this one :) If any medically minded people have a better idea of how to have Spencer haemorrhage during routine surgery (other than a surgeon's mistake bc that seemed way too much hassle) then do let me know because this is all I could come up with based on my basic googling.

The day progresses about as normally as it can without Spencer. The briefing goes a little smoother without the interruptions and tangents the youngest, newest agent likes to interject, and the rest of the team are forced to do far more research for their consults rather than calling across the bullpen for Spencer to yell back the answer (usually attached to another long-winded and mildly endearing explanation full of backstory).

There’s a sense of unease in the air around them, a slight tinge of worry on everyone’s faces at the knowledge that Spencer’s currently undergoing surgery. Still, with a job like theirs, they can’t generally afford much distraction, and the mysteries that underline every moment of their day do well to keep their minds off it.

Or at least they do until Hotch’s phone rings with an unknown number around 3pm.

“Aaron Hotchner,” he says into the phone, doing his best to keep the sceptical curiosity from his tone as he narrows his eyes and looks out the window at the pouring October rain.

“Good afternoon Mr Hotchner,” a young man’s voice sounds out over the line. “My name’s Samuel, and I’m calling on behalf of George Washington University Hospital. I understand that you’re the emergency contact for Dr Spencer Reid, is that correct?”

Hotch doesn’t know whether to relax or not. On the one hand, at least this isn’t a horrible surprise — he’s had his fair share of psychopath threats, and he’s really not in the mood for another one this afternoon. He already knows Spencer is ill, but why would they be ringing him again if he's already aware of that fact?

“Yes, that’s correct.” He internally curses himself at the slight waver in his voice, effectively shattering his eternally composed facade. At least Samuel’s the only one around to hear it, and he probably gets a lot worse than a wavering voice on a daily basis.

“I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been a complication with Dr Reid’s surgery this afternoon. Unfortunately, as the surgeons were closing up, he began to haemorrhage badly, and the operation has obviously been extended as they look for the cause of the bleed and, hopefully, repair it.”

Hotch doesn’t quite know what to say, so initially, he doesn’t say anything. He isn’t often rendered speechless — he’s replied instantly to gruesome threats on his and his family’s lives; he’s stared into a serial killer’s unflinchingly as he’s forced to listen to some of the most macabre tales he’s ever heard, but the sentence telling him that Spencer Reid’s life is in danger is the only one he’s ever come across able to completely stop his heart in its tracks.

His heart in his mouth, he swallows. “Uh, right— do I— do I need to come down?”

He doesn’t even have it in him to recoil at the sympathy in Samuel’s reply. “If you’d like to, sir, you’re more than welcome to, but he isn’t expected to come out of surgery for another couple of hours, and it will take a little longer than that for him to come around from the anaesthesia.”

It was a redundant question. Hotch is going down to the hospital even if he has to wait three weeks to see Spencer’s eyes flutter open.

As soon as he gets off the phone, he hurriedly packs his bag before bursting into the corridor and tapping insistently on Rossi’s door.

“Aaron?” Rossi asks, his face twisted in concern as Hotch enters the room without any of his usual calm restraint, anxiety and urgency written across his expression in a way it isn’t even when a victim’s life is on the line. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Spencer,” he replies, and he realises that this might be the first time he’s actually used the junior agent’s first name. “He haemmoraged during surgery, and I’ve gotta get down to the hospital.”

“Wait, slow down, Aaron. Is he stable? Is he okay?”

Hotch huffs a shaky breath, feeling panic consume him for a short second before he’s able to squash it down once more. “No, no, uh— he’s still in surgery.”

Rossi starts, confused. “Then why are you heading to the hospital, Aaron? You’ll just be sat there waiting. It could be hours before he’s out, I mean that kind of complication could lengthen—”

“I know,” Hotch interrupts impatiently, not in the mood to hear anybody speculate on Spencer’s condition. God, he feels sick. “And I don’t care. Spencer needs me, Dave. This is exactly what I signed up for when I agreed to be his emergency contact, and I’m not about to let him down.”

Rossi sighs, clearly realising he’s not going to convince him. “Alright. What do you need to me to do?”

The team is gathered in the briefing room only minutes later, and Hotch doesn’t waste any time jumping into it. He’s itching to be on the road and on his way to Spencer.

“There was a complication in Reid’s surgery this afternoon,” he explains bluntly, glad that this time he’s able to keep his spiralling emotions under a little more control. “I don’t know much, but I know that he’s still in surgery and they’re attempting to locate the site of the bleed. I’m heading down to the hospital right now and I’ll keep you all updated.”

He watches sadly as guilt and distress play out across his team’s faces, and he wishes he could take it all away from them.

“Is he— is he gonna—” Penelope can’t quite make herself say it, but Hotch knows instantly what she means by the look of horror in her eyes and the tears already making their way down her cheeks.

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment in a vain attempt to compose himself. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, and as much as his emotions might have been locked up tight only seconds ago, his voice is thick, and he feels his eyes glaze over. “I hope not.”

“We should’ve been there,” JJ says miserably, not quite crying but looking well on her way, her distraught expression mirroring Penelope’s. “He shouldn’t have had to go through this alone. He was probably— he was probably in pain and suffering and called an ambulance or drove himself to the hospital, and he was all by himself, we should’ve been there, oh my god.”

Her own words are enough to tip her over the edge, and she begins to sob, turning her face into Elle’s shoulder as the three women attempt to comfort one another.

“Us being there wouldn’t have made much of a difference,” Hotch tries to say, “not when the complication happened anyway.”

He can’t talk, though, because he’s about to go and sit on a hard plastic chair in a cold and sterile waiting room potentially for hours, just to be closer to Spencer; just to make himself feel a little bit better about this god awful situation.

“I’m coming with you to the hospital,” Derek says determinedly, as soon as the shock has worn off and Penelope, currently pressed into his side and wrapped under a comforting arm, has calmed down a little.

“Derek—”

“No, Hotch, that’s my man out there, and I’m not— I’m not leaving him to go through this alone.”

“None of us are, Derek,” Hotch says heavily, but he knows he won’t be able to stop the other man, so he gives in. “Alright. Anyone who wants to come to the hospital with me can, but you have to prepare yourself for a long wait. He’s still in surgery and we have no idea how long it’ll take to finish and for him to come around.”

“We don’t care,” Elle says, her voice perhaps the most sombre Hotch has ever heard it, “we’re not taking the chance that Spencer wakes up alone.”

With the rest of the team’s affirming nods, it’s decided.

Hotch drives Derek and Penelope to the hospital, Elle and JJ taking another SUV, while Rossi decides to hold the fort at Quantico. Thankfully, the traffic is minimal, and before they know it, they’re pulling into the parking lot and all piling into the entrance.

They follow the signs to the General Surgery department, and Hotch goes up to speak to the lady behind the desk, informing the staff of their arrival while the others linger a couple of feet back. All in all, they’re sat in the waiting room less than an hour after Hotch initially received the notification of Spencer’s condition.

They’re the only ones in the small room, so it’s unsettlingly quiet, the only noise filling the air the uncomfortable shifting of fabric against the vinyl of the chairs. Derek leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he hangs his head, and Elle and JJ cuddle up together in the corner across from the rest of them, whispering almost silently to one another as they seek comfort in one another. Penelope sits rigidly upright, staring at the wall opposite her as tears stream down her face.

Hotch observes them all and wishes there was something more he could do for them than whatever this strange little pity party is. He lets them stew in their own silence for a couple of minutes before the unspoken tension and guilt radiating from every single team member really starts to bother him.

“Do you remember the first time Spencer toured the bullpen?” Hotch says into the silence, an edge of humour in his tone as he quirks an eyebrow.

Derek smiles, lifting his head and looking in his direction for the first time since they sat down. “When he tripped up the stairs and banged his forehead on the top step?” he chuckles. “His whole week was spent with a cut and a giant bruise smack bang in the middle of his face.”

The rest of the team is snapped out of their stupor at the mention of that memory.

Elle laughs properly, lifting her head from JJ’s shoulder. “I called him Harry Potter for months.”

Penelope gasps. “Yes! It left a tiny scar! Aww, that was so cute.”

“It certainly threw us into the deep end of life with Spencer Reid,” Hotch chuckles warmly.

“And what about the first time he came with us on the case and broke the coffee machine at the precinct on the very first day?” JJ laughs.

“I don’t know how that boy even made it to twenty-two,” Derek says fondly, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat, relaxing.

They all bask for a minute in the amusing memories of Spencer’s mishaps, but Hotch knows there’s so much more to the younger man than clumsiness and social faux pas.

“Remember that time he stayed late for a week just to help one of the junior agents with her caseload so she could take care of her sick son?”

Penelope nods, eyes big and wide. “And the time he taught himself how to cook just so he could make lunch for Anderson while he was taking care of his sick grandmother?”

“One time he came to my house after work to bring me some soup from his favourite restaurant, just because I’d told him it smelt good at lunch,” JJ admits.

“Yeah,” Derek muses. “That kid would do anything to help someone else out, even at his own expense.”

There’s a short pause, a moment of reflection, before Elle speaks up. “We fucked up.”

“We really did,” JJ agrees instantly, sounding as distraught as she looks.

“He was in pain,” Derek says sadly, looking up from his hands at the rest of them, “and he didn’t trust us enough to call us.”

They’ve all been thinking it, but hearing it said out loud just about breaks Hotch’s heart in two.

“Well,” Hotch rationalises, “we just have to do everything in our power to make sure that never happens again.”

“That’s a good resolution if I’ve ever heard one,” Penelope agrees, sounding stronger than she has since they first heard the news. “From here on out, Spencer Reid will never have to feel alone again.”

They spend the next couple of hours reminiscing on some of their best memories of Spencer and counselling one another through the guilt of how they’d treated their youngest member. It’s not like anyone’s been outright cruel, but none of them has made the effort they wish they had, and they all admit that they could’ve done more to make Spencer feel included, like the valued and loved member of their team he is.

Eventually, though, the surgeon comes out to find them.

“Family of Spencer Reid?”

They all stand up instantly, crowding around the doctor eagerly in anxious expectation. Thankfully, though, most of them are profilers — even JJ and Penelope are excellent people-readers — and bad news isn’t anywhere in his expression or body language. Hotch feels a good chunk of the tension ease out of the group as soon as the doctor appears.

“Dr Reid pulled through the surgery, and he’s currently sleeping off the remainder of the anaesthesia in his room, which I’ll take you to in a minute,” the doctor starts, smiling at them as they all relax fully at the knowledge their teammate will be okay. “We removed his appendix successfully, and we managed to stop the bleeding. Dr Reid has an excess of Protein C and Protein S in his blood, which is not usually medically significant, but these are the body’s natural anticoagulants, so when there’s too much in someone’s body, it prevents clotting and promotes abnormal bleeding.

“We eventually stopped the bleeding with antifibrinolytic drugs, but he received three blood transfusions to keep him stable. He should recover quickly with a course of these drugs to prevent post-operative bleeding and other standard post-procedure medicine that he would’ve been prescribed with or without the complications. I’ll take you to his room now, if you’d all like to follow me.”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Penelope whispers to Hotch as they follow the doctor’s quick pace through the sterile hallways towards Spencer’s room on the ward, “I didn’t understand a word of that.”

Hotch chuckles warmly. “I think the most important thing he said,” he whispers back, smiling at her, “is that Spencer’s gonna be just fine.”

Once the doctor leaves them alone, they get comfortable around Spencer’s bed, settling in for what will probably be another hour before Spencer comes round. Hotch and Penelope take one side, and Derek, Elle, and JJ sit opposite them, all watching fondly for a couple of minutes as Spencer sleeps soundly, his face squished against the pillow. It might look a little creepy, sure, but just minutes ago, they weren’t sure they’d ever see their friend alive again, so drinking in the sight of him sleeping soundly is just what they need right now.

“He’s too adorable,” Penelope coos as she brushes a gentle hand through his hair. Hotch watches her warmly, knowing that she’d definitely made the most effort to befriend Spencer, and this has probably been the hardest on her out of all of them. He’s definitely heard of more than one Dr Who marathon evening.

“He really is,” Derek chuckles. “He’s making the rest of us look bad.”

“To be fair, we have just spent the last couple of hours in a hospital waiting room,” Elle reasons, but the rest of them instantly turn to look at her incredulously.

“Yeah, and he just spent the last couple of hours bleeding out, babe,” JJ laughs. “He’s still got us beat.”

Elle winces. “Fair enough.”

They chat for a little bit, all livened up by the sight of Spencer again, before the conversation gives way to quiet again, and they all disappear into their own heads, processing the day’s events in all their uniquely different ways.

It’s not long before the silence is broken again, though.

“Don’t you guys feel kinda shitty that it took Spencer almost dying for us to really realise just how incredible he is?” Derek asks, a guilty look plaguing his expression once more.

“Yes,” Hotch admits, turning to look at him with an open, wise expression. “But the alternative was not realising it at all.”

A little over an hour after they first enter his room, Spencer begins to show signs of waking up, and they all watch him eagerly, waiting to see those big brown eyes again.

His eyes flutter open tiredly, but his face breaks into the loveliest smile as soon as he spots the team gathered around his bed. “You came,” he grins dopily, still sleepy from the anaesthesia.

“We did,” Hotch says, caressing the hand he’s been holding since they entered his bedroom. He’s always felt… protective of the kid, but it’s remarkable how quickly protectiveness spiralled into downright paternalism. “And we’re not leaving until you’re sick and tired of us.”

Spencer stirs, stretching within the confines of the bed a little as he smiles at them all. “Not possible.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, Spence,” Penelope says through a watery smile as she lays a warm palm on his forehead. “Derek’s gonna eat his crisps with his mouth open and JJ and Elle are gonna flirt relentlessly, and Hotch is gonna tell us off whenever we do anything even slightly against the rules, and I’m gonna hug you constantly, and it’s gonna be a nightmare, just you wait.”

Spencer’s eyes close against his will as sleep reclaims him. Still, before he’s knocked out again, he smiles again and mumbles a sleepy, happy, “can’t wait,” and that’s more than enough for all of them as they do exactly as they promised and camp out beside his bed, eagerly waiting for the next time Spencer wakes up, and they get to spend more time with the 22-year-old genius who’s managed to worm his way into every single one of their hearts without any of them noticing.

It’s funny, Hotch thinks ten months later with Jack tucked into his side, his team sprawled out across his living room, and Spencer fast asleep in his lap as the last credits of their movie night roll, how some of the best times of your life begin with the worst days imaginable.

He supposes it really is true what they say. After rain comes a rainbow.

Cheesy ending, I knowwww, but I couldn't resist! I hope you guys enjoyed this one :) If any medically minded people have a better idea of how to have Spencer haemorrhage during routine surgery (other than a surgeon's mistake bc that seemed way too much hassle) then do let me know because this is all I could come up with based on my basic googling.