A/N This story is a sequel to my story "Sick", this could stand alone but you might want to read that first. (It's a House, M.D. and Criminal Minds crossover.)

Hotch looked down at the dwindling gas meter. Something was wrong, they had just filled up at the last gas station. Hotch looked over to Reid, the only passenger in the car was peacefully asleep. He stopped the car and got out to look at the gas tank. His assumptions were proven correct: the gas tank was punctured. They were stranded. They were on a seldom used back road going through thick woods with no houses anywhere near. Great. They would have to walk.

Hotch heard a small moan from inside the car.

"Reid, are you okay?" he asked, walking around and leaning in the frame of the driver's side door.

Reid took a deep breath. "I'll be fine. Why are we stopped?"

"Our gas tank was punctured."

"Any cell reception?"

"Nope."

Reid shifted his weight, and the small movement made him wince.

"What's wrong?"

"My chest hurts."

Hotch thought of Dr. Chase's warning: It was very likely Reid would relapse. His mind raced thinking of the symptoms: chest pain, fever, head ache, shakes, vision problems, coughing up blood, blood in the urine. He would have to watch Reid.

"Do you have a headache?"

"Just a little."

Hotch walked over and felt Reid's forehead. He was burning up.

"Damn." He said. There was no way Reid could walk if he was relapsing. He remembered how much pain Reid had been in at the hospital. He could barley even speak, let alone walk for miles.

Hotch pulled a water bottle of the back, knowing he had to keep hydrated.

"Try to save as much of this as possible, I think we'll have to wait for help." Hotch said, handing him the bottle.

Six hours later Reid was full out shaking. "Hotch I'm so c-cold." He said.

"I know Reid, I can't give you any more blankets, you have a fever."

"P-please." He begged.

"I'm sorry."

Reid moaned, his chest felt like there were a ton of bricks on it, his head felt let like there was knife sticking out the back, he felt increasingly dizzy and he was freezing. He knew why Hotch wouldn't give him a blanket but he was so cold… he might freeze to death. He was surprised he hadn't already, even know he knew it was physically impossible. He coughed, causing his chest to erupt with agony, like thousands of knives pricking the inside of his chest, tearing it apart. He felt blood trickle down his chin, but was shaking too violently to attempt to wipe it away. He felt Hotch do it for him, but he just coughed again. Then his vision went blurry, he couldn't see again. He couldn't observe. No!

"H-hotch." He said. "I c-can't see-e. P-please help-p m-me."

"It's okay Reid, you'll get out of this." Hotch said.

He watched as the young man had another coughing fit, convulsing in pain. He turned away, it hurt him to see Reid in such a horrible state. Hotch could only hope the team found them in time.

Morgan walked into the office the next morning to find a worried looking Garcia.

"Hotch and Reid didn't get back yet, it's been all night and I can't trace their cells." She said.

"Relax, baby girl. I'll go look for them." He said. "Do you know what route they took?"

"Yeah, here I'll draw it on the map for you."

Reid had gotten progressively worse over the night. He couldn't stop coughing and every single one was like someone was punching a hole through his chest. His fever was getting worse, he knew. Whenever the world became focused again, everything was spinning. Not being able to see- that was worst part. He wanted to know what was going on around him, be alert in case anything happened. But he couldn't.

Hotch hated seeing Reid suffer, but there was no way he could leave him alone to go look for help. Reid couldn't even see, he could never manage on his own right now. He looked over at him, lying in the backseat of the car. He knew the worst misery for him was the fact that he couldn't see. He was desperately looking for something recognizable. Hotch thought of how horrible it must be to see that something is there, but not be able to tell anything about it. Especially for Reid. Hotch sighed.

This friggen sucked.

Morgan had driven about a quarter of the way there when he came to the woods. Maybe their car broke down in there, they could have gone to the next town. Or they could have gotten in a horrible car accident and be waiting for help. Whichever it was, Morgan headed into the woods.

"Hotch." Reid said. "I'm really dizzy."

"Hang in there." Hotch said.

"I can't… I'm going to pass out." He said.

"Come on Reid, just stay awake."

"I'm trying… " he rasped.

Then he heard the car engine. "I'll be right back, hold on!" he told Reid, rushing off to flag down the car. It stopped before he reached the other side of the car and Morgan stepped out of the driver's side.

"Hey Hotch, car troubles?" he asked.

"Reid is relapsing, we have to get him to the hospital." He said.

"What?" Morgan said.

"We have to get him to the hospital, help me move him."

The two rushed to the car. Morgan lifted Reid's left side and Hotch took his right. Reid moaned in pain.

"It's okay pretty boy, you'll be fine."

After what seemed like forever they finally reached the car, they placed Reid in the back and Hotch climbed in the driver's side while Morgan sat in the back with Reid.

Reid was holding on for dear life, literally. Every little bump was torture. His body was too distressed, he wasn't sure he could hold on much longer. He had to focus on something other than then the anguish ripping through his skin.

"Morgan?" he said.

"What is it pretty boy?" he asked.

"Why do you never let me drive?"

"What?"

"I just need to talk about something. Why won't you ever let me drive?" Reid asked again.

"No offence man, but the only time I did let you drive you nearly killed us."

"Did not."

"Where did you learn to drive?" Morgan asked.

"I had to…" he winced. "teach myself."

"Are you serious man?"

"I couldn't afford lessons. I had to drive my mom to San Francisco one weekend. We went to see a special therapist, but we couldn't afford plane tickets so I drove." He said.

"You drove from Las Vegas to San Francisco without a license?"

"Yeah, and I didn't get pulled over so I must be a good driver." He said.

Morgan laughed. "Were almost there man, just a little longer."

"Okay." Reid started coughing again.

"Just hang in there pretty boy."

Only three minutes later Hotch pulled up in front of the hospital. "We need help!" he called.

Three doctors rushed towards the car, helping Reid get out.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" one asked.

"Aspergillosis. We think he's relapsing." Hotch replied.

"Okay. Go to the waiting room, we'll let you know."

"Thank you."

Hours later the team had been called, and were on they're way. Morgan and Hotch sat in bleak waiting room; it was painted dark grey with a meager supply of two year old magazines and a pathetic toy pile in the corner.

"Spencer Reid?" called out a blond woman in pink scrubs.

"Yes?" said Hotch.

"I'm Dr. Grey. Well, Mr. Reid should be fine. But- I'm not sure how to put this, but Mr. Reid was not relapsing. He was poisoned." She said.

A/N :O and the plot thickens! It's not gonna be a next chapter, it will be a sequel, I'll write it as fast as I can. Keep checking my profile for updates, and yes I know House was not in this one at all but he might come back into play in the next one.

~MAXIMUM