Page 33 of Small Sacrifices

The hotel lobby is empty, and so is the elevator. When he arrives on his floor, Reid is prepared to nod in greeting at the PPO stationed opposite the elevator. What he isn't prepared for is Everett sitting next to his door. As soon as he sees Reid coming, he gets up.

Reid wants to scream. How long had Everett been waiting there? And, more importantly: How can Reid get rid of him? Just seeing his eager face makes him want to cry. He can't deal with that kind of energy right now.

"What took you so long?" Everett asks.

Reid clenches his jaw. "I'm sorry. I can't talk right now."

He doesn't want to open his door while Everett is standing there, afraid the other man might take it as an invitation. But he also knows that they can’t talk in the middle of the hallway.

Predictably, Everett walks into his room like he owns it. Reid is left standing at the door, wondering if he can leave it open while he convinces Everett to leave.

"What do you mean, you can't talk right now? We said we'd talk now."

"Everett, I really can't."

"But—"

"Can you please just leave?"

Reid's phone pings with a text. It's probably Briana, asking if he's in his room yet. He ignores her in favor of more pressing issues.

Everett crosses his arms. "I can. And I will, if you really want me to. But you said we'd talk, and I thought you meant that."

Reid looks at him, and then back at the door. They'll be better off if he closes it. It doesn't look like Everett is going to leave soon. So Reid pulls it shut and sags against it.

"I really don't have the energy for this right now." He has to close his eyes to ward off the tears that burn in them. Deep breaths, he tells himself. But it's no use. His breath is going way too fast. He can already feel himself spiraling. At least Everett won’t tell his parents.

"Hey, are you alright?" Everett sounds wary. It should probably be funny how quickly he switches from petulant child to concerned friend. But Reid doesn't have the bandwidth to appreciate it right now.

"No," he says. In-two-three, out-two-three. In-two-three...

"What happened?" Leather squeaks.

"He's dead."

"Who's dead?"

"Can you just leave, please?" He has to at least try one more time.

"No," Everett says resolutely. "Who's dead?"

"Robin Greene." Reid presses his hands into the carpet. The texture is nice—prominent loops that dig into his palms. He tries to focus on them. In-two-three, out-two-three.

"Oh. Is that the kid we were supposed to visit in the hospital?"

Reid nods. His phone pings again. But he's in no condition to be calling his sister, anyway.

"Is that what has you in this state?" Everett asks. His tone of voice is inscrutable, which doesn't exactly serve to calm Reid down. But at least he isn't touching him.

Reid shakes his head. Because that's not the reason, not really. "She shoved me."

"Who, Ms. Greene?"

A nod. In-two-three…

"I'm sorry. Is this like when I ran into you?"

Ping, his phone rings out.

"Who's texting you?" Everett asks.

"Briana." A tear escapes the corner of his eye and rolls down his cheek, hot like shame.

"Your... sister?"

Reid nods.

"Does she know what happened?"

His phone rings as soon as Everett has asked that question.

Blearily, Reid opens his eyes and wills his hand to move.

It's difficult to get his phone out of the pocket of his pants in this condition, but he does it.

Then, he just stares at Briana's name and image on the screen until the phone falls silent again.

"Don't you wanna talk to her?" Everett asks.

Reid shrugs. He wants to talk to her, but in person. He wants her to hug him as tight as she can until his heart rate has slowed down and his thoughts are decipherable again. But she's all the way on the other end of the state.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Hug me. The impulse to say it is surprisingly strong.

But even more weird is the realization that yes, Reid actually wants that.

He wants Everett to hug him. Even though he doesn't know him very well.

Reid rolls his head from side to side, enjoying the pressure of the hard door against it.

Just a few moments ago, he wanted Everett to leave. Now, he wants a hug. How strange.

When he opens his eyes, Everett is also sitting on the carpet, leaning back against the bed. He doesn't look overly concerned, but his eyes are sharp, flitting from Reid's face to his clenched hands. When he realizes Reid is looking at him, his mouth stretches into a grin.

"Welcome back. You better?"

God, Reid hates that question. With passion so hot it could evaporate the Great Lakes.

"A bit," he says, because he doesn't have the energy for anything more specific. His body still feels like he has an electrical current running through it. But at least it's growing heavier now. Soon, he'll be able to sleep. That'll be nice.

It looks like Everett is gearing up to ask something, and dread is already prickling in the back of Reid's neck at the idea of having to deal with questions in his current state. But then his phone rings again. In his surprise, Reid flinches so hard that he drops it.

Everett shoots him a look. "Don't you think she's worried about you? Maybe you should pick it up."

But Reid can't. He can just close his eyes again and drop his head back against the door. The ringing sound continues for a bit, but then he hears Everett move.

"This is Reid's phone. He can't pick up right now."

Oh no. It can't be. But when Reid wills his eyes open again, Everett indeed has his phone pressed up to his ear. And he's smiling at Reid, as though this isn't completely out of line.

"I'm Everett. Everett Mackenzie? We're… colleagues."

Even from a distance, Reid can hear Briana laugh before she asks her next question.

"I don't really know. It looks a bit like a panic attack. Reid, can I put your sister on speakerphone?"

Reid nods. Might as well. Maybe then it'll be over more quickly.

"Hey Reid," Briana's voice soon rings out into the room, slightly tinny and very concerned. "Is it really bad? Two taps for yes."

Oh. Immediately, he feels guilty. If she thinks he might've gone nonverbal, she must have been really worried.

"Not that bad," he says. "Just sucks. Wanna sleep."

"And you want Everett to be there?"

Good question. "S' fine. He wants to help."

"Right." There's a brief pause. "Have you eaten?"

"I just wanna sleep."

"Reid, you're not home. You need to eat if you want to be able to get out of bed tomorrow."

Reid groans and pushes his knuckles into his eyes. But opposite him, Everett perks up.

"Room service has a great burger here. I could order one," he says.

When Reid doesn't say anything, Briana jumps into action. "Burgers aren't ideal. Is there a soup or a salad?"

"I think so." He leans to the side until he manages to fish the menu off the bedside table. "There's some sort of quiche, a Caesar salad, and minestrone. Does any of that sound good?"

"Reid?" Briana asks when he doesn't answer.

Reid hums. None of it sounds appealing. He just wants to sleep.

A sigh rings out from the other side of the line. "Right, then order the minestrone and ask for some bread on the side. Could you stay to watch him eat it?"

"Yeah, sure." The answer is breezy, like it isn't a big thing to ask.

Reid doesn't know what to make of that. He wants to believe that's how Everett feels.

But he's been in enough situations where people just pretended it was alright.

At some point, the barrel always overflows. Everett will lose patience soon enough.

Reid's phone lies on the carpet between them while Everett orders the soup over the landline.

He puts on a voice to do it, charming and warm.

Reid rubs his fingers over the loops of the carpet and tries not to let himself think that this is just another piece of evidence pointing towards the conclusion that Everett just pretends a lot.

The phone clicks into the receiver and Everett shifts back into his previous position. "Ten minutes."

Briana hums. "That's quick."

A crooked smile is aimed at Reid. "I think we're not the only ones ordering right now. It's probably already warm."

"It's not fresh?"

Everett laughs. "How fancy do you think this place is? I'd be willing to bet there's at least a microwave involved."

They banter for a bit, and for the first time in hours, Reid feels a small weight lift. It's nice seeing Everett and Briana get along. Everett looks relaxed, and Briana seems to like him. But eventually, Everett clears his throat and shifts.

"So, can I ask what's happening right now?"

Reid closes his eyes again. Of course. Of course he wants to know. And he's even being nice about it. But it's still too much. Tears burn at his lash line.

"Sure, you can ask," he hears his sister say, her voice all steely friendliness. "But you should ask Reid. Tomorrow, when he's alright again."

Bold of her to assume he'll be recovered tomorrow.

"Right," Everett says. "Sorry, Reid."

Reid hums. "'S okay."

Silence descends, but not for too long. Soon enough, someone knocks at the door.

"Room service!"

Fuck. That means he has to move, doesn't it? He can't very well open the door when he's leaning against it.

"Coming!"

Reid winces. God, Everett projects his voice like a theater kid. But it's enough stimulus to get him on his feet. He lets himself be gently pulled aside and watches as Everett slips the person a tip and takes the serving tray.

Reid's mouth waters the second the tray passes the threshold and the scent of broth wafts over to him. His stomach twinges and—oh. Oh, maybe he is hungry. Briana always knows best.

Speaking of Briana.

"Is that dinner?" she asks.

"Yup." Everett seems to be at a bit of a loss over where to set down the tray. There’s a small desk, which seems to be where he wants to put it, but Reid is already sitting on the bed.

Like hell he's going to sit in a hard chair after the day he's just had.

Eventually, Everett seems to realize that too.

He sets the tray down like too hard of an impact might make the soup explode and then. .. sits down next to the bed?

"You can sit on the bed," Reid says.

On the other end of the phone call, Briana snorts. "I'll take that as my sign to go. You gonna be alright, kiddo?"

"Yes." He'd quite like to have the energy to point out that he's not a child anymore. But otherwise, he'll be fine.

"Everett, you'll stay for a bit?"

Everett nods, even though Briana can't see it. "I'll make sure he eats."

There's a sound of shrewd contemplation. "Make sure that's all you do."

It would probably be amusing to see how wide Everett's eyes can get if Reid knew what Briana was talking about. But he doesn't. Because he's tired.

"What?" he asks.

"Oh, never mind. Bye!" Click. Damn her.

"I'm sorry," Reid says. Everett's eyes are still mostly white. "She does that." Whatever that is. Is she suggesting Everett may try to have sex with him? Him? She's his sister. He must be reading it wrong.

Everett huffs a laugh, back to good-natured all of a sudden. "You forget that I have a little sibling. I know how these things go."

Right. His brother. Maybe this is just a thing that happens in families? A kind of teasing, even if it's inappropriate? That just leaves the question of why they're only starting this now.

They settle in next to each other on the queen-sized bed and Everett scrolls on his phone while Reid folds himself into a pretzel up against the headboard and eats his soup.

It's a hearty soup, hot and not too salty.

Both the vegetables and noodles still have some bite to them.

The bread tastes like preservatives, but Reid manages to get it down, anyway.

When he's sopped up the rest of the soup with the last bit of crust, Everett looks over at him with a soft smile on his face.

"That better?" he asks

Reid nods. He feels warm now, not hot anymore. The heaviness in his limbs is pleasant. It's still early in the evening, so if he goes to sleep now, he might even be back at a hundred percent tomorrow.

"D'you want me to leave?"

Oh. Reid blinks at him. "Not really."

The minute the words have left his mouth, he cringes internally. That's not a good answer. Not really? What's that supposed to mean? But Everett just keeps smiling.

"I can stay a bit longer," he says.

Oh. That would be nice. He doesn't want to be alone right now. It's surprising how relaxing and safe Everett's presence has felt so far.

"Won't that be an issue? 'm not supposed to know you, 'member?"

Everett's smile only deepens as he watches Reid rub at his eyes. "No one knows I'm here. It'll be fine."

That doesn't sound right. Reid frowns. "You waited for me in the corridor. There's a PPO in the corridor."

"That's just Holland. Holland likes me. You don't need to worry."

It seems like this is something that Reid should protest. But he's tired, and everything is warm. Frankly, he's melting into the bed at this point. Instead of saying anything, he attempts to drag the sheets out from under himself.

It's harder than it should be. His hands feel weak, and the sheets seem glued to the mattress.

Maybe they're stuck under it. Damn it. Why do hotels always have to be so difficult?

He's close to giving up and resigning himself to sleeping on top of the covers when Everett steps in.

With one firm pull, the sheets come free.

A few gentle movements later, Reid is tucked in snugly.

Everett doesn't leave, which is a relief. He settles back on the bed next to Reid, staying on top of the covers. It's comforting to know he's there. Even with a foot of space between them, Reid swears he can feel the warmth radiating from him.

He's close to sleep when a sudden movement drags him back up into consciousness. Everett has shifted next to him. "Don't you need to brush your teeth?"

Reid glares at him. Technically , yes. But he's cocooned in warmth now, and there's no way he's getting out of bed until morning. Still, Everett's reminder prompts another thought—his glasses. He's still wearing them.

Sighing, Reid reaches up and pulls them off. Everett must be making a face, but Reid doesn't care. He lies back down and ignores the unspoken judgment.