yesimagenius (yesimagenius) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-04-11 01:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | aaron hotchner, spencer reid |
WHO: SSA Dr. Spencer Reid & SSA Aaron Hotchner
WHAT: Two very confused profilers arrive in LA.
WHEN: April 10, 2005. After this
WHERE: Random city street & a hospital
RATING: PG
STATUS: Complete
Reid had expected an explosion. He hadn't expected Hotch to shove him out of the way. And he certainly hadn't expected to end up outside, in the dark, while it was raining. Hadn't it been the middle of the afternoon? Pushing himself off of the ground, Reid took a deep breath. Nothing felt like it hurt. No more than it usually did after faceplanting into the ground after a concussion wave.
"Hotch?" Reid called before reaching up to touch his headset. "Guys, I'm all right. In one piece, at least," He said, but only got crackling static in return. "Guys?"
"Report." Hotch's voice was weak, and he felt as though the concussion wave had picked them up and dropped them from the top of the Statue of Liberty. "Gideon, JJ. Morgan. Prentiss. Report."
Nothing. Nothing but static and the sound of his own breathing, and -- rain.
"We're definitely outside," Reid said, pushing himself into a sitting position before crawling over next to Hotch. It wouldn't have been odd for it to be so dark if they weren't. "But it doesn't look like we're in the warehouse district anymore," He said, frowning as he moved to help Hotch sit up. "How long do you think we were unconscious? It's dark...had to have been at least 5 hours, more most likely. Weather patterns don't change this fast. There wasn't any call for rain in the forecast for days."
Hotch sat up carefully, wincing as bruises and lacerations protested. He gave himself a quick once-over, grimacing. The damage wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected, given he'd expected not to wake up.
"It doesn't feel like hours," he said thoughtfully, running a hand over his chin. "And definitely not days, I don't have enough stubble for it to have been that long."
"There's no other logical explanation for our sudden change in spatial location and time," Reid said, looking up at their surroundings. "Any of this look familiar to you?"
"No." Hotch closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was aching, unsurprisingly. "What else could have happened? This unsub isn't the type to play mindgames this complicated."
"The team attempted to transport us somewhere and something happened en route?" Reid suggested, though there was a heavy amount of disbelief in his voice. For all of his brainpower, he just couldn't put his finger on this one.
"I'm pretty sure they would have taken the arrow out of my arm."
This didn't make sense, and if Reid couldn't figure it out...
"Point. Do you think you can stand? We should get out of this weather, at least. Find ourselves a better location to puzzle this out."
Hotch moved experimentally, wincing a little.
"Nothing broken," he reported eventually. "It's still a city, at least. There'll be cafes or something."
"Right now, I'd settle for an overhanging ledge," Reid said, grasping Hotch's uninjured arm, working to help him to his feet. "There's one thing for certain, at least. Wherever we are, we're out of range," Reid said, reaching up and taking his headset out of his ear.
Hotch tugged his cell phone out of his pocket once he was on his feet, frowning at the screen.
"I've got reception, but... GPS says Los Angeles. That can't be right."
"Weren't we just in Maryland?" Reid asked, looking more than a little puzzled. "Maryland to Los Angeles is four hours even on the best flights. There's no possible way we could have been moved that far without realizing it, without someone realizing it."
"My phone must be on the blink," Hotch said, frowning at it.
A beat later, Reid's phone was in his hand, worry etching his face as he shook his head, "If yours is on the blink," He said with a pause, turning the screen of his phone's GPS so that Hotch could see it. It was locating them in Los Angeles as well, "so's mine."
"This is insane."
That much was clear. His head ached, most of his body ached, and both their phones said they were somewhere they couldn't be. Insane was an understatement.
"Puzzling at best," Reid said in an offhanded manner. "Should we give Garcia a call? See if she can pinpoint where we really are?"
"Good idea." He hit speed-dial 4 -- it went Haley, Gideon, Reid, Garcia, Morgan, JJ, Prentiss -- and waited impatiently for her to answer.
After several rings, the line on the other end picked up.
Garcia's phone, Reid speaking. So if this is Morgan, please, don't say anything lewd.
...that was impossible.
Hotch looked up, staring at Reid. It was definitely Reid's voice. But Reid was right there. It was impossible.
...hello? You do know it's a federal crime to crank call any government institution.
"What? What is it?" Reid asked, looking over at Hotch. He did not like that look on his face.
"Reid, it's Hotch," he said carefully. "Do me a favour and tell me what date it is? I think my VCR clock's broken."
It was about as reasonable an excuse for 'what date is it?' as he could think of.
April 10, 2005. Hotch, are you all right? You sound odd.
Reid? He had to be joking, right?
"I'm standing right here," Reid said. "Is Garcia doing her impressions again? She's not that good at me."
"I had a bit too much to drink last night," he said, forcing a laugh. "See you later, Reid."
He hung up, looking back at Reid.
"...that was you. I know your voice well enough to know that was you. And you said it was April 10, 2005."
"2005? That can't be right," Reid said, heavy confusion soaking into his features. "That's... well, it's impossible. Low grade explosives don't cause wormholes."
Hotch raised his eyebrows, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
"Wormholes?"
"A hypothetical topological feature of spacetime that is basically a 'shortcut' through space and time," Reid said, raising a hand to rake his wet hair back off of his face. "It was a term first coined by the theoretical physicist John Wheeler in 1957 but first theorized by the German mathematician Hermann Weyl in 1921 when he was analysis of mass in terms of electromagnetic field energy."
And...that had been a little too much information than necessary, hadn't it?
"And you think that somehow we went through one of these wormholes to April of 2005."
April, 2005. Jack wasn't born yet.
No. No. This was insane.
"That's impossible."
"Improbable," Reid corrected, shaking his head slowly. "I doubt you want to hear all the theory, Hotch, but this...this could be very, very bad."
"Reid, you're trying to tell me that we're in 2005. I think I can grasp how not good that is."
He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky.
Haley. Jack. His son didn't exist yet, if this was true and not some -- some sort of delusion.
"It is fascinating, though," Reid said, his tone brightening, almost oblivious to Hotch's bad temper. "A naturally occurring wormhole!"
"Reid," Hotch said quietly, "my family is on the other side of this fascinating naturally-occurring wormhole. I just want to know one thing: how do we get back?"
"Oh. Um. That's the very, very bad bit," Reid said, offering Hotch a very sheepish look, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. He hadn't thought about that, really. It just hadn't crossed his mind with all of the other possibilities swimming around in it right now.. "We can't. But! On the brightside, when we go missing in this timeline, we won't be missing. That is, if this is an intra-universe wormhole."
God, he hoped it was intra-universe. He'd hate to have to try and explain it to Hotch if it turned out not to be.
"That's two years in the future," Hotch said flatly. "I'm not going to not see my wife and son for two years, Reid."
He couldn't. Haley and Jack were the only things keeping him sane in this job, sometimes.
Reid didn't know what else to tell him. "There's no way to get back, Hotch."
"There has to be. If we got here, there has to be a way to get back, it doesn't make sense otherwise!"
"Hotch, it's not that black and white," Reid said, raising a hand to rub at his forehead in frustration. "Unless you have an idea where to get a supply of exotic matter or a quantum vacuum and some sort of...black hole generator, we can't get back."
Hotch spun on his heel and strode to the end of the alley they'd woken in, gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to snap back. This wasn't Reid's fault, and taking out his frustrations on the younger man wouldn't be fair.
Not that anything about this situation was fair.
Reid leaned against the building, watching Hotch and keeping his mouth shut. He knew all too well that saying anything really wouldn't help this situation right now. Reid hated feeling helpless like this. He had a lot of ideas, sure. But now of them were practical.
This was insane. Insane. And even if it was true, even if they were in 2005, you couldn't feel physical distance from your loved ones, it was a biological impossibility.
There was an ache deep in Hotch's gut, though, that had nothing to do with the blast or the cold. He slipped his phone out of his pocket almost automatically, switching to the video file Haley had sent him. Jack's first steps.
It was a short file, less than five minutes long. He kept watching it.
Watching his boss with a heavy, worried frown gracing his features, Reid pushed himself off the wall before moving over to Hotch, settling his hands lightly on the other man's shoulders, "Hotch. Let's find a hospital, get ourselves checked out, get that arrow out of your arm. We can worry about the physics of this later. All right?"
He watched to the end of the clip before looking up at Reid and dialling directory assistance.
"Directory assistance? Hi. I need the nearest hospital in Los Angeles," he told the operator, telling her the name on the nearest street sign he could see. There turned out to be a hospital a few blocks away, and he snapped the phone closed, resisting the urge to open the video file again.
"Three blocks south."
"You know, you could probably still call Haley and talk to her," Reid said, looking up at Hotch as he gently steered him toward the direction that he'd indicated. "Considering how much we were on away cases this year, I bet she wouldn't mind the extra attention."
"Wouldn't that cause some sort of paradox?"
He didn't want to bring up that point. He wanted to believe that he could still talk to Haley without making things worse, if that was even possible. But even Hotch had read enough science-fiction to know that time travel was tricky.
"How often did you call her when we were on assignment?" Reid asked. He was pretty sure the answer to that question was either 'not at all' or 'not that much'.
"We don't exactly have time or energy for social calls," Hotch said defensively.
"So then you won't have to worry about crossing wires with yourself," Reid said, grinning over at Hotch, ignoring the defensive tone. "You'll just end up creating a predestination paradox which isn't as bad as it sounds, trust me."
"If you say so."
Maybe -- just maybe -- he could deal with this if he could still talk to Haley.
It didn't take them too long to get to the hospital. Reid wasn't really looking forward to the possibility of having to do the talking. He had no idea how to explain this situation without sounding absolutely insane.
Adrenaline had faded, leaving weariness behind, and Hotch just followed Reid, ignoring the looks they got from passersby. Even in L.A., arrows weren't exactly commonplace, and the wound was still sluggishly bleeding.
Hotch certainly wasn't in any position to take the lead at the moment, so, fishing his badge out of his back pocket, Reid flashed it at the nurse behind the desk, "We'd appreciate it if you could forgo the usual paperwork," Reid said in response to her stunned expression.
"Um. Yes, of course," She replied after a moment's hesitation. It was a bad idea to say no to government agents, wasn't it?
Hotch collected himself enough to say, "we're on assignment, and we need to keep below radar. You understand."
"Of course. Of course," She replied quickly as she moved and ushered them back toward the beds that were laid out for people to wait for doctors to attend to them. She looked over Hotch and Reid before nodding to Hotch. "They'll be looking at you first," She said, glancing at Reid.
"I'm fine," Reid said. "Just a little bruised."
"The arm's the worst. I'll be fine."
Hotch sat down, taking his phone out and flipping it over in his hands before tucking it back into his pocket. You couldn't use cell phones in hospitals.
The nurse motioned for Reid to follow her to another of the beds, but Reid just shook his head, sitting down in the chairs that were laid out next to the beds for family and friends, "I'll be fine right here, thanks," He said, offering her a slight smile.
The nurse glanced briefly between Reid and Hotch before nodding, "I'll go and find a doctor. Someone else will be coming along in a few minutes to take his vitals."
"You sure you wouldn't be more comfortable on a bed?" Hotch asked, glancing at Reid.
Reid shook his head, "I'm just a little banged up. It's nothing that won't heal on its own. You're the one with an arrow embedded in your arm."
"It could be worse," Hotch pointed out numbly. "It could be a bullet. Those are a lot messier."
"But a lot easier to deal with," Reid said, frowning up at Hotch. "It will be all right, Hotch. We'll figure this out."
"Mmm."
He took the phone out again, flipped it over in his hands, returned it to his pocket.
Jack wasn't born yet. And it would be almost a year before he was.
"Hotch, breath. Don't focus on it. There's nothing we can do about it right now."
"They're my family."
There was the same tight, restrained emotion in his voice as there had been when they'd been dealing with the man dubbed the 'stripper bandit'.
"I know that," Reid said. Had Hotch forgotten who he was talking to?
He shook his head, rubbing his temple and looking tired.
"I'm sorry, Reid. This is all... kind of a lot to take in."
"And I don't expect you to take it all in and process it without any issues, Hotch," Reid said. "But there's no point to dwelling on things that can't be changed."
Hotch gave him a hollow smile.
"You're talking psych at me, Dr. Reid."
"Basics, at best," Reid said, smiling back at Hotch as the nurse stepped in next to the bed.
"I certainly hope I'm not interrupting anything," She said, smiling at the both of them.
"No. It's fine."
The mask went back up, with the inclusion of a stranger.
The nurse paused, staring at the arrow for a moment before shaking her head, deciding it wasn't worth asking as she stepped over next to Hotch, "I've just going to take your vitals. The doctor is finishing up with the next bed over. He should be here to look you over and work on...removing that in a few minutes."
Reid just watched quietly, a slight frown on his face. He'd been getting somewhere. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to start all over again when they left.
"I'm going to have to borrow some scissors if you want my blood pressure," he pointed out. He wasn't exactly going to be able to get his jacket off with an arrow through the sleeve.
"That's not necessary," the nurse said as she rolled back the sleeve on his jacket and unbuttoned his cuff, taking his pulse. After noting that down for the doctor with a slight frown, the nurse pulled out a pin light, shining it in Hotch's eyes.
Hotch winced, resisting the urge to look away from the light.
"Problems with my pulse?" he asked lightly.
"It's weaker than it should be," the nurse said. "How much blood do you think you actually lost?"
Hotch glanced at Reid, and then shrugged. "I couldn't say. Sorry."
"Not much," Reid said with a sigh. "Not even as much as they take when you give blood."
"Hrm," The nurse said, frowning even more. "If you'll excuse me for a second," She said, moving away from the bed to go and talk to the doctor.
"I wonder what that was all about," Reid said, looking after her.
Hotch shrugged, absently rolling his sleeve back down.
"Probably being extra careful. Nobody wants an FBI agent to die on their watch."
"I think it's more than just caution, Hotch. Did you notice the way she tensed after taking your pulse?" Reid asked, still staring after the nurse. "Her whole demeanor changed."
"It can't be that bad," Hotch pointed out, with the firmness of someone who had very minimal medical training. "I'm still upright."
"That can mean very little in the long run," Reid said, focusing really hard to keep his voice even as he continued to stare after the nurse. "There's any number of things it could be."
"Mister...Hotchner, is it?" The doctor asked as he came back in with the nurse, peering down at the chart that he was carrying. "We've got a few concerns that we'd like to address with you. First off, I would appreciate if you could tell me exactly what happened?" He asked, looking up and peering at the arrow. "I'm guessing it wasn't a hunting accident."
"I'm afraid a lot of it is classified," Hotch told the doctor. "The unsub we're after doesn't like guns, they make too much noise. We were tracking him through what we assumed to be his safehouse, and he shot at us with what I'm assuming was a bow."
"Well, obviously," The doctor said, setting the chart down before pulling out a set of surgical instruments, cutting the shaft of the arrow off with a set of scissors. "Is that all, then? Just the arrow?"
"What would make you think that it's anything else?" Reid asked.
"Because wounds like that don't often cause septic shock," The doctor explained. "Could you remove your jacket, please?"
"There was a minor explosion, some sort of homemade incendiary device. Obviously, it wasn't particularly powerful," Hotch pointed out. Getting his jacket off was easier said than done, even with the shaft of the arrow mostly gone, but he managed it eventually.
"Powerful or not, even the most minor burns when irritated by the friction of wet clothing can turn into something serious," The doctor said, taking Hotch's jacket and laying it aside.
Reid's eyes went slightly wide as soon as Hotch's jacket was off, "Hotch, you're bleeding."
He shrugged, uncomfortable. "I took the brunt of the blast, I guess. It shouldn't have done that much damage."
"It probably didn't, at first," the doctor said as he started to cut away the fabric that was glued to Hotch's burns. "We'll need to treat these and put you on a regiment of antibiotics," he said before nodding to the nurse. "You deal with these with I get that arrow removed."
"He'll have to stay overnight, won't he?" Reid asked with concern.
"At least until we're sure of the stability of his condition."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
A hospital stay in L.A. on his record, while he'd been in Quantico? That wasn't going to be easy to explain.
"Hotch," Reid said, looking over at him. It wasn't like they had anywhere else to go. And heading back out on the street when he needed medical attention...Gideon would kill them if he knew they were considering doing something like that. "Maybe you should listen to the doctor."
"Can you give us a few minutes to talk?" Hotch asked the doctor.
"Of course," The doctor said, nodding to the both of them as he finished bandaging up Hotch's wound. The nurse had finished balming and bandaging the worst of Hotch's burns. the rest could wait for at least a few minutes. She stepped out of the area with the doctor, leaving Reid to just look over at Hotch.
"We don't have anywhere else to go, Hotch," Reid said. "And wandering the streets, in the rain, when you're hurt doesn't sound like a good idea to me."
"Reid, I'm supposed to be in Quantico right now. How's it going to look when my medical records show me being in two places at once?"
"Hotch, I told them, no paperwork," Reid said. "There's not going to be a record of this."
Hotch frowned, shaking his head, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"...right. Sorry."
"I'll make sure that they don't keep anything on it," Reid said. "I'll get whatever charts that they write up before we leave. All right?"
"All right."
His head was aching. Arguing took too much energy right now.
Reid nodded as he stood, "I'll go and get the doctor, have them set up a room," He said, raking a hand through his hair again. "We'll be fine, Hotch. Just try and relax."
"I'm relaxing," he protested.
After Reid had left, it was almost too easy to just lie down and close his eyes, letting everything go. They'd work out what to do in the morning.
A few minutes later, Reid returned with the doctor in tow, frowning slightly at his now unconscious superior. "I didn't mean that relaxed."