Disclaimer: I do not own or make a profit off of Criminal Minds...sigh.

Hello all! This story is a continuation of my previous one called "The Raconteur." I highly suggest that you read that story first because this one won't make a bit of sense if you haven't. The main focus of this story is going to be healing our trouble bound Reid and taking down his obsessed stalker John.

I wanted to thank everyone that weighed in on the last story. I appreciated hearing your comments and constructive feedback. Feel free to leave a note anytime!

Please forgive any mistakes!

Enjoy!

Reid was the first person to board the jet back to Virginia. Hotch had picked him up from the hospital early and drove him straight to the aircraft. It was an awkward ride rife with silence and the occasional attempt at making conversation. The worst part of the ride was when they got to the airport and Hotch had tried to get Reid to open up about the ordeal. In typical uncooperative genius fashion Reid shut Hotch down real quick and exited the car.

Currently he was sitting in the back of the plane in the spot everyone used when they wanted to be left alone. He had placed his go-bag on the seat across from him to prevent any of the profilers from sitting down uninvited. Then he pulled his legs up into the seat and clutched them close to his chest, a position that was slightly uncomfortable because it upset the brand that was etched into his skin. Still, Reid felt that the closed off position would be a good signal to the others that he didn't want to be bothered.

Hotch had yet to climb aboard, probably because he was waiting for the others out on the tarmac. More than likely he was going to warn them to leave Reid alone because the young agent was clearly not ready to talk to anyone yet.

Reid could hear their footsteps tramping up the steps outside and decided to act like he had fallen asleep in his tightly curled form. He tried to even out his breathing so that his sleep looked completely natural but he was pretty sure the profilers could see through it. He listened as they settled down on the opposite side of the jet, talking in hushed whispers. After a couple of minutes he heard a heavy set body walked down the aisle and stopped right next to him. He could feel a hulking presence standing over him and knew that they wanted to wake him up. Moments later thought he perceived a huge sigh being released and the presence departed from his side. It was probably Hotch or Morgan that wanted to talk to him, but he really couldn't be bothered at the moment. Especially since he made it clear to Hotch earlier that he wasn't interested in talking.

The injured agent could feel the jet starting down the runway. Deep inside he was getting excited that soon there would be hundreds of miles separating him from the most humiliating experience of his life. Soon he would be home and safe in his familiar territory. He could start the healing process on his own like he planned, and if he was lucky none of the profilers would be the wiser.

Off in the distance he could hear snippets of the conversation his coworkers were having. He heard Hotch mention to them that Reid was frustrated when he couldn't do simple things and how he was so defensive whenever the subject of talking about his experience came up. Reid was upset that they were talking about him so casually. It seemed to solidify the fact that he just couldn't trust them anymore. Reid thought back to his earlier encounter with Hotch and was proud of how he handled it knowing that there would be more unpleasant ones just like it in his future.

4 hours earlier

Reid stood up beside the hospital bed and struggled to finish putting on the dirty pants that he was found wearing. Scrub pants were just not appealing to the genius because of how easily they could be torn off an unwilling body. So instead of choosing to use the hospital proffered clothes he decided to wear the soiled ones. Unfortunately, he had already learned that trying to accomplish any task with his casted hands was difficult, but he hadn't anticipated the struggle he was enduring just to zip up his pants. Luckily he was right handed and he only had to deal with one finger being casted on that hand. So he grasped the metal tong in between his thumb and middle finger and pulled up.

He winced as pain shot through his hand from putting it through such an arduous task. He wanted to massage it but the cast got in the way. Instead he opted to sit back down on the hospital bed and wait for the doctor to come in and officially discharge him.

Reid looked around the room and noticed a lack of decoration, get well soon trinkets, and balloons. After kicking Morgan out of his room the first night he asked the hospital staff to keep all visitors out. He knew it was stupid to keep his friends away, but he couldn't bring himself to face them after Morgan's revelation the other night.

Deep down he knew that he had acted irrationally to the fact that they didn't head right out and save him once they realized who might be holding him captive. Regrettably, he also couldn't get over the fact that if they would have gone out and looked he may have never been raped.

Raped. Spencer Reid had been raped by the sadistic man that had held him captive for close to four days. He knew that he was experiencing one of the textbook stages a rape victim goes through, the "Underground Stage." He was trying to suppress any thoughts of the rape from flitting through his mind and all he wanted to do was go back to his normal life. He felt that if he was successful at fooling his brain into thinking that nothing really happened than he may be able to fool his teammates.

Avoiding his coworkers' questions and concerns was going to be challenging. His abnormal reaction to Morgan the other night probably forced their profiler minds into a tizzy. So, he was going to have to downplay the incident and his subsequent refusal to see them as nothing more than needing privacy to come to terms with what happened to him out there. In fact he would even tell them that he was thinking about seeing a counselor when they get home to help him sort through his feelings. He knew for a fact that they would love to hear that he was willing to open up to someone, even if it wasn't them. Of course, he would never actually go to a counselor. The idea of sharing his experience with someone, even a total stranger mortified him.

Sighing as he propped himself up on the bed he set his sights on putting on his shoes. He had thought that pulling up a simple zipper was a difficult task, but it turned out that tying his shoes was pretty much impossible. Frustrated with his inability to do something so easy he ripped his right shoe off his foot and threw it at the door in frustration.

Alas, his shoe throw couldn't have been more ill-timed because at that moment Aaron Hotchner walked through the door to be greeted with a rubber sole in his face.

"Wow. Morgan said you were upset, but I never expected that," Hotch said dryly as he bent down to pick up the rogue shoe.

"Uh…I'm so sorry. I didn't know that you were coming in. Are you okay?" Reid asked in shock at his bad luck.

"I'm fine. No damage done," Hotch said as he handed the shoe back to his injured agent. He then unhooked Reid's go-bag from around his shoulder and set it next to the genius. "I thought you might like to wear your own clothes instead of those dirty jeans and scrub shirt."

Reid shrugged not wanting to have to revisit the exertion that would come with putting on a whole new outfit. Instead, he took the shoe that Hotch gave him and wedged his foot into it again but this time he left the laces undone. Once both shoes were settled on his feet he dangled his legs off the hospital bed and stared down at them as he kicked them back and forth.

Hotch, realizing that Reid wasn't going to any conversations broke the ice by asking, "Do you need help with those?"

Reid's head jerked up and gave Hotch a questioning look with his puppy dog eyes.

"Your shoes," Hotch gestured at the sad looking laces dragging the floor.

"Oh…I'll be fine," Reid answered, embarrassed that his boss wanted to tie his shoes for him.

"Nonsense, Reid. You really need to accept help when it's offered. Right now you are unable to do some simple tasks and that is nothing to be ashamed of," Hotch admonished him as he bent down in front of the resident genius and tightly tied his shoes.

Regardless of Hotch's words Reid was still self-conscious of his current weakness and he could feel his face start to burn bright red. If there was one thing in the world that Reid couldn't handle it was any show of weakness. At that moment he swore that he would wear nothing but loafers for the remainder of his healing. There was no way he was going to be in such a degrading situation again with someone he so respected.

"Thanks," Reid said when the man was finished. He trained his gaze toward the tiny window that allowed some light into the dingy hospital room. He could see dust particles floating in the beams of light shining through the window. He tried to count how many there were drifting about instead of meeting his friend's piercing gaze.

After a few minutes of silence and a grand total of 1294 pieces of dust accounted for Reid decided to ask Hotch a question, "Why are you here?"

"Well, your doctor called to let me know that you were being discharged this morning. I came to pick you up and take you back to the jet. We've finishing up our part of the case and we're going home in a few hours," Hotch explained.

"He shouldn't have done that. I would have been fine getting to the jet on my own," Reid responded unhappy with the doctor.

"How would you have gotten back?"

"I would have taken a taxi," Reid said simply.

"That would have cost a fortune. Besides, we've been worried about you and I wanted to see how you've been doing with my own eyes," Hotch said.

"I'm fine," was all Reid would say in response.

"Spencer, you're-," Hotch was interrupted by the entrance of the doctor pushing a wheelchair.

"Good Morning Dr. Reid. Oh, you made it Agent Hotcher," the doctor said as he stopped the chair in front of the agent's bed.

"Good Morning Dr. Etchinson," Hotch said as a greeting noticing that Reid wasn't going to attempt any pleasantries.

The doctor nodded in acknowledgement and turned to Reid, "Well, it looks like you're ready to get out of here. I just want to check your injuries once more and then we can get to signing your release papers."

The doctor made to reach for Reid's gown to pull it up but the genius held up his hands in defense. "Um…Hotch, could you please step out for this?"

Surprised, Hotch said, "Of course Reid," and walked out to give his agent some privacy.

Once the door was firmly shut Reid submitted to the exit exam with hesitation. He was still having issues when anyone went to touch him. His body would involuntarily flinch away from any hand and he would start to tremble ever so slightly. The young agent knew he needed to get these unintentional reactions under control as soon as possible to avoid the perceptive profilers' suspicions.

As soon as the examination was through the doctor fetched Hotch from the hallway, so he could hear his parting instructions for Reid.

"Alright Dr. Reid, I am giving you a prescription for a burn cream that you need to apply to your wounds at least three times a day. You are also receiving some antibiotics to ensure that the bacteria from the alligator bite are fully flushed from your system. Finally, I am prescribing some pain killers because no matter how much you deny it I know that you are feeling some discomfort from your wounds," the doctor explained to his stubborn patient.

"Thank you, Dr. Etchinson," Reid said quietly not putting up an argument about the medication.

"Okay, sign on this line and we can get you out of here," the doctor said pointing to the signature space on the paper.

Reid quickly scrawled his name and pushed himself off the bed. He reluctantly sat in the chair and grabbed the bag containing the book from the stand next to his bed. Hotch quickly grabbed the bag away from Reid and said, "I'll carry this for you."

Reid began to panic because he didn't want Hotch to discover the book hidden within its depths, "No, I can hold it. Give it here."

"Nonsense. You just relax and enjoy the ride," Hotch chided him wondering what was in the bag that Reid wanted to keep secret. Grabbing the untouched go-bag that he had brought he trailed behind the two doctors hoping that he would get his agent to open up on the ride back to the precinct.

Relief flooded through Reid when he successfully buckled his seatbelt without any help. He snatched the bag with his book from Hotch's hand and clutched it to his chest as his superior got into the car.

The ride to the jet was silent and awkward for the two agents. One was clearly trying to avoid speaking while the other couldn't figure out how to bring up an unpleasant topic of conversation.

Biting the bullet Hotch decided to just come out with it and said, "Look Reid, Morgan told me that you were upset because we didn't go out to look for you the night we found out that John was the unsub."

Reid shifted in his seat and turned his head to stare out of the passenger window, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, well you don't have to talk. Just listen," Hotch said in his boss-like tone.

"No Hotch. I don't want to talk about it and I really don't feel like listening to you talk about it either," Reid said uncharacteristically.

"Alright…maybe later," Hotch said in defeat unused to hearing Reid being so forceful.

The continued the drive in silence until they reached the jet. Hotch parked the borrowed SUV and turned toward his agent again.

"Reid, the others are going to be here soon. I really don't want you taking out your anger out on them when the reason you're upset is my fault. I told them to go to bed that night. It was my order and if you want to be mad someone than take it out on me. I'm sorry that you had to spend an extra night with that man, but I really didn't have a choice. The tour guides were exhausted and we couldn't get them back to search the swamp until they rested up. It was in everyone's best interest to get some rest and rejuvenate after such a long day of searching," Hotch tried to explain to the angry man.

"Whatever," was the only response he got out of Reid.

"Come on, you need to start talking. We were able to convince the local police that your statement wasn't needed but I know that you need let it all out. It's not healthy to keep this stuff bottled inside. I know that part of the reason you kicked Morgan out was because you were genuinely upset, but I also know that you were just trying to avoid talking to us too. You've got to share what happened with someone. It doesn't have to be me, but you could pick someone else on the team to open up to. Anyways Reid, you know you're going to have to talk to a psychologist and pass an evaluation before you can come back to work. So practice opening up now so it won't be so hard later," Hotch entreated the boy.

A little laugh pierced the car. It was such a tiny sound that Hotch wasn't even sure that he heard it. But it happened again and got louder and louder. Reid was actually laughing hysterically by then end. He started coughing and began to clutch his stomach in pain.

"Reid, talk to me!" Hotch said worriedly.

"Talk? You want me to talk to you? Talking's what got me into this mess. No. I'm not talking about this with you or any of the team. If I've learned anything over the past week it's that I'm better off if I keep my mouth shut. All my life words have been my release but now I realize how much they have destroyed my life. I'm done with talking Hotch! I'll talk to whichever bureau doctor you want me to, but that's it. Now can I get out of the car?" Reid said with such finality that Hotch knew that arguing with the young man would be useless.

Reid didn't wait to be dismissed but flung open his door and made his way to the jet. Hotch just stared after his agent and wondered what hidden meanings were buried within Reid's short speech.