First of all, I am really sorry that I kept you all waiting. I've had to deal with some stuff lately, and I've been somewhere where (save me!) there are no computers available. So, anyway, on with the story. I hope I haven't lost any of my faithful readers.

Hotch walked into the waiting room at what was a pace that drew many glares from nurses and hospital staff. He rushed into the ER room, where he saw a group of chairs off in a corner that were secluded enough for a private party. The people currently sitting in the chairs looked distraught, but relieved and happy at the same time. His team, together, and finally getting to see their lost member again.

"Hey Hotch," said Morgan, looking up from his chair.

"How much do we know?" said Agent Hotchner, looking down on his team. He took a seat next to Prentiss, who shifted in her seat to sit more upright.

Morgan sighed. "Well, we don't know much. For one thing, he can barely open his eyes."

"The light, it hurt his eyes really badly. I don't think he's seen daylight or any sort of artificial light since he was abducted," said Prentiss.

Hotchner closed his eyes, thinking back to what Dwyer had said to him. So far, his assumptions had been correct.

"There's something else, Hotch. There were track marks on his arms. So many of them, it was unbelievable. I think he was drugged. I don't know what kind of drug, but he looked like he might have been going through withdrawals." Morgan looked helpless as he looked onto Hotch. "Hotch, I don't know if he can go down that road again, not with all of this shit added onto his problems," he said, his voice low and quiet.

None of the other members said anything, but they were all in though. Was Morgan right? How much could one man take?

"We'll cross that road when we come to it," said Hotch, not wanting to face it at the moment.

They waited in silence, the finality of Hotch's statement had caused them all to keep their mouths closed and just think.

JJ sat in her chair next to Prentiss, the two, now close friends, holding each other's hands for reassurance.

Suddenly, a thought came to Morgan. "Aw, shit," he said, bending forward and rubbing his hands against his temple.

"What's wrong, Morgan?" said JJ, looking up.

He shook his head. "We haven't told Garcia yet."

The team looked around, shame that they hadn't told their loving tech-analyst that her Junior G-Man was alive. They were all wondering the same thing. How was she going to react?

"What?" said Garcia loudly, her fingers freezing on the keyboard as she heard Morgan over the phone. "He's, he's, how is he?" she said, shock covering her face. Tears were welling up in her eyes, tears of happiness and relief. "Ok, I'm coming right now! And, I'm bringing lots of candy! And books. And some of my Garcia flare thrown in for free. I'll be there faster then you can kick down a door, my chocolate thunder." Her voice was shaking during her entire phone call, and she stood up slowly.

She took a deep breath and composed herself. Reid was alive. Reid wasn't ok. But he would be. But how long until he would be? She stood still for a few seconds, just taking in the information she was just given.

She shook her head, and walked out the door. She would be the happiness that Reid needed. Now more than ever.

Shortly after Morgan had hung up the phone, a doctor came up through the glass doors that read, 'Hospital Personnel Only'. He looked harried, and his doctor's coat was slightly wrinkled on the sleeves. "Spencer Reid?" he asked, looking around the waiting room.

The whole team stood, and the doctor glanced at them, and walked over. "Biological family first, please," he spoke with practiced authority.

Hotch spoke with even more authority. "He doesn't have any," he said, not mentioning his mother or father. They couldn't be here, anyway. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI. He works with us and we are his family."

The doctor eyed them, and sighed. "Ok. Spencer is stable, and his organs are all fine. He did have some self-inflicted wounds on his wrists, but they are healing up fine." The team looked stricken at this, but the doctor continued. "His eyes are extremely sensitive to light right now. It will take some time before they are completely used to light. I'm not 100% sure if they will regain full function in the light, as we have never had a patient who has been in this situation. We have no studies to compare him to, so we'll have to see how it goes. I recommend sunglasses, indoor and out, so as not to do further damage to his eyes.

"Now, this may sound very much like a movie, but Dr. Reid is suffering from severe 'Cabin Fever'. It is known as 'winter depression', and is usually found in patients who live in cold climates. Now, due to his long exposure to no light, and his lack of things to do, he has gotten a severe case of it. Some of these symptoms include irregular sleeping habits. Now, he probably already has irregular sleeping habits due to a warped sense of time. From what I'm told, he was left completely in the dark for a year and a half, with no objects in his cell, am I correct?" asked the doctor, after his long speech.

"Yes, there was nothing in his cell except for a toilet and a sink. It didn't have any light in it at all, and it was soundproof," said Rossi.

"Yes, as I expected. His sense of time is going to be completely warped, so he will have to get used to that again. He may have excess sleeping, or he may have insomnia, at this stage I couldn't tell you. He will also have a difficult time concentrating. He may have a warped sense of priorities as well. Right now, his whole mentality was based around survival. Eat, drink, sleep. That was all his life was, so right now, he may have a hard time dealing with little problems, everyday ones."

"Dr, I don't want to interrupt, but this is a lot of information. And we have once concern in particular, he had track marks on his arms. Do you have any information on that?" asked Hotch, his arms crossed with a serious expression on his face. The rest of the team was having a harder time containing their composures. Reid may be physically fine, but his mind was completely messed up.

"I was getting to that. From what I can tell, faint traces of drugs were in his system. It's been a few days, so they were very light, but we did get back the tox screen results. He had dilaudid in his system." The group around him looked shocked for a moment. Reid's choice drug? It didn't really make sense. "And he had trackmarks completely covering his arms. I'm assuming he didn't use any other locations on his body because he couldn't see. From what I can tell, he has been using for the past year, at least. He's going to be highly addicted. He may have to go to a program, unless you think you can deal with it?" he asked, his eyebrow raised.

"We can. We'll handle it ourselves," Morgan said. He couldn't believe it was dilaudid. Now he was wondering if Reid was drugged, or if Reid had chosen to take the drugs.

Morgan had been there for Reid the last time he had to deal with his addiction.

January 1, 2009, 3:23 AM (AN, sorry for interrupting. I don't know if this is the year or not, but basically, this is the year that Reid was addicted to drugs.)

Morgan had just got home after a very eventful New Years Eve party at his favorite bar. The night was full of flirting, confetti, drinks, and dancing, as was his New Year's tradition. He was slightly inebriated, and had a more-difficult-than-normal time getting up the steps. But when he reached the floor that his apartment was on, he instantly sobered up.

Laying on the floor right outside his apartment was Reid, his best friend. Lately he hadn't talked to Reid much outside of work, due to Reid's heightened attitude.

But he put all contempt he had held towards Reid's behavior aside as he saw the broken form of his friend. Reid's hair, usually clean and kempt, was greasy and hanging over his face. His shirt was wrinkled, and was buttoned uncorrectly. His pants had a stain on them, and his shoes were old and scuffed up. His face was pale, and he was a lot skinnier than he had been a year ago, if it was possible. His eyes were closed in sleep, and dark circles surrounded them, along with bags right under his bottom eyelid.

"Oh god, Reid." He rushed over, all drunken thoughts of his night completely washed away with concern for his friend. He gently pushed Reid onto his back, and tapped his cheek gently.

"Reid? Reid, wake up man, come on," he said. Reid's eyes opened slowly, and gazed at Morgan. Morgan's heart fell when he saw the dilated, glazed eyes of a high in Reid's eyes.

"Morgan?" he spoke, his voice small and raspy.

"Yeah Reid, I'm here. Come on," he said, pulling Reid up off the floor. Reid swayed in spot when he stood, and he grabbed onto Morgan for a second.

Morgan shook his head, and pulled Reid into his apartment. "Come on, Reid. Sit down," he said, gesturing to the couch. His dog, Clooney, the world's worst guard dog, remained asleep by his bedroom door.

Reid collapsed onto the couch, but then bent forward, hugging his torso, not meeting Morgan's eyes.

"Reid? What's wrong, man? Why are you here? Why didn't you call?" Morgan asked, sitting down beside Reid, holding a cup of newly made coffee for his friend.

"I forgot my phone. And I needed to see you," said Reid quietly.

Morgan sighed. "Reid, I need to ask you something. Have you been taking drugs?"

Reid didn't look up, but he nodded. "Are you high right now?" asked Morgan, already knowing the answer.

Reid looked up at Morgan, his giant eyes pleading and water. He nodded again. Morgan's heart swelled at the sight of his broken friend. He placed a hand on Reid's back, and handed him the coffee.

"I'm so ashamed," Reid said. "But I wanted to start over. It's a new year, a new year's resolution. And I need help," he said, tears spilling. "I'm a junkie, Morgan. A druggie!"

Morgan felt pain in his heart, hearing his best friend plead for help. "Reid, you can get through this. It is a new start. You told someone, you admitted you need help. That's what separates you from a junkie. So you know what? This is your New Year's Resolution. We'll get you clean, Reid. I promise."

Present Day

"Alright, if you say so," the doctor said. "If you want to visit him, he's in room 204 on floor 5. He's not supposed to have visitors, but I'll make exceptions in this case."

"Thank you," said Prentiss sincerely.

The doctor nodded, sighing. He hoped that the young man wouldn't be as broken as he feared he would be. His friends would be devastated if he was as bad as he expected.

"By the way, he is going to need to see a psychologist. As soon as possible, preferably."

Hotch nodded. "Ok, we can handle that."

The doctor bid them farewell, and they made their way to the elevator. "He's going to be ok. Eventually, he'll be ok," said Prentiss, more to herself than to her colleagues.

Rossi looked over at her, and empathized with her. "Yeah. He's strong. He'll be ok."

The elevator ride seemed to take forever, the only talking was Morgan, calling Garcia to let her know that room Reid was in.

They made their way to room 204. There was a small window, so they could see him with the door closed. But instead of staring at him through the window, they made their way inside. Hotch entered first.

"Hey, Reid," he said. Reid was laying on a hospital bed, propped up a fair ways. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, but it was pushed behind his ears. His arms were wrapped in bandages, so they couldn't see any extent in damage. He had sunglasses on, even though they were indoors and the light was low.

His head swiveled towards Hotch. "Hey Hotch," he rasped. His voice was hoarse and scratchy due to lack of use.

Hotch made his way in, followed by the team. They were all covering up any shock and sadness from the news they were just given by the doctor. JJ went over right away and hugged him, and Prentiss did the same. Morgan nodded and gave him a smile, and didn't say much.

Rossi spoke. "it's good to have you back, Reid," he said, smiling.

Reid nodded, still unsmiling, but not in a mean way. He was just overwhelmed and relieved. He was back. But the thought of starting life again, of everything going back to the way it used to be, seemed so unlikely, and so surreal.

Hmmm, I like how this turned out.




And again, my apologies. Hopefully, now that it is summer, I will be able to update more often. I do like this story and I'm not giving up on it any time soon. And sorry if the chapters are messed up. I was editing stuff, and my AN got reposted, and moved to chapter 6, and all kinds of stuff. So, I guess if anything is messed up, sorry.