Untouchable

When You Left

"Lydia," Hotch greeted as she rushed into the waiting room of a hospital.

"What do you know about his condition?" she demanded.

Hotch nodded for her to follow him farther back into the hospital. "He's got a mild concussion from where the unsub knocked him out and his left foot is broken. Other than that, his injuries are purely psychological. I got the doctors to allow you to stay here for the night and I ordered the others to go to their hotel rooms and sleep. You should be able to stay with him for the next few hours."

"Does the team know I'm here?"

He shrugged. "I didn't think you'd want me to tell them the reason I called you."

"And what is that reason?" she asked, slowing so that they could speak face to face.

Hotch looked at her sternly. "I know you're a private person," he began, "but I hope you don't make it into a habit of keeping secrets from me, Lydia."

Had Spencer told him? But he wouldn't have. Or, if he did, he wouldn't have blamed her for the secret. So perhaps, Hotch had just assumed. She'd expected that. "If there's a secret here, it belongs to Spencer, not me."

Upon hearing that, Hotch's hostile stance calmed. "I can imagine it does. And I'd like to speak to him about it, but for right now, he needs to see you."

She nodded. Now really wasn't the time. "Take me to him."

Hotch didn't follow her in, just pointed to the room where he was located.

Spencer had a bandage on the left side of his head and a boot around his left foot. His eyes looked dark and sunken, his hair a matted mess. It was a version of him she'd never seen before. One she never thought she would see.

"Lydia!" Spencer cried as she opened the door. He looked so overwhelmed. She wished more than anything she could take him away from all this. "What are you doing here?"

"Hotch called me." Lydia did all she could to hide the tears forming in her eyes and smile at him. "I think he's onto us."

Spencer didn't respond to her tease. He glanced outside, likely noticing Hotch's lingering presence. He was currently pulling out his phone, facing away from the couple.

"Looks like for the next little while we'll be limping buddies!" She tried again to make him smile. At the very least, acknowledge that she was there.

Something very traumatic happened to Spencer. She could have known that without coming all this way. But Hotch, for some reason, thought her being there would help. And she felt helpless. He wasn't okay. He was barely looking at her. Barely talking.

So, she pulled up one of the chairs, sat down next to him, and held his hand. Because all she could think to do was let him figure this out on his own. It's what he was best at.

They were silent for most of the night. Eventually, Hotch disappeared, likely going to get some sleep himself before the team had to fly home.

Spencer spilled a few tears, but stayed quiet. Lydia would hum quietly beside him. She thought he might eventually fall asleep, but he didn't. His mind was far away, too busy to sleep.

It wasn't until morning was approaching and Lydia knew she had to go before the others got there, that he spoke.

"I shot him, Lydia." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "I hate to even pull my gun out, and yet, I shot him."

"And it's a good thing you did," she said. "Tobias was having you dig your own grave-"

"No," he growled, startling Lydia. "Tobias was a good kid. He saved my life."