Page 58 of Small Sacrifices

Reid's breath catches, and he has to squint his eyes shut against the tears that well up against them.

It's difficult to breathe in the undertow of the wave of emotions that crashes over him.

Death threats? That's so much worse than anything else Everett mentioned—and yet he doesn't seem surprised by it. Just how badly could this have ended?

Never mind the fact that Everett went in alone.

He knew how bad this was, and he went to confront his father without even telling anyone what he was doing.

Presumably because they would have stopped him.

Which is understandable but still infuriating.

If he needed out that urgently, surely there would have been a different way.

Now he's got death threats on tape, and if Reid understands this correctly—the whole world will hear them. Wasn't that the exact opposite of what he wanted? It can't be an easy prospect.

Max doesn't seem to have arrived at that conclusion yet. He's still venting. "Oh, that's great, then, isn't it? Death threats? Love that for us!"

The corner of Everett's mouth twitches, but he manages not to smile.

Instead, he grips his sibling by the arms. "Max, this was my decision.

You don't need to like it. I'm not asking you to forgive me.

You can be as angry at me as you want, for as long as you want.

But it's done now. Beth says I have enough evidence. "

"Officer McNaulty?" Reid blurts out before he can stop himself.

Everett's gaze snaps to him, his tired eyes softening as a faint smile spreads across his face. "Officer McNaulty. I have a witness, Reid. I thought—what's better than video evidence? A cop who saw him hurting me. Courts like cops, right? And Beth, she's one of the good ones."

There's a strange mix of pride and relief in Everett's expression, as if he's unaware of the enormity of what he just admitted.

Reid's chest tightens, torn between wanting to shake Everett for putting himself in danger and wanting to wrap him in a hug.

Neither feels right, especially after seeing how Everett flinched earlier.

"I'm glad you're here now," he finally settles on saying. Not "I'm glad you're okay," because while Everett isn't mortally wounded—and is, in fact, smiling right now—he definitely is not okay. No matter what he says.

Everett's smile only gets brighter when he hears this. "Me too. You gonna get over here?"

Oh, he would like to. But should he? One look at Max and the way his chest is heaving tells him that there's someone else who is much more in need of Everett's attention. Reid tries to convey this with eye movements, but that only serves to make Everett cock his head.

"You good?" he asks.

And Reid very much is not. He's tired, he has a massive headache, everything is too much to the point he feels shaky, and on top of that, the man he cares for could have gotten himself killed today.

Maybe it's alright if he gets a hug. When he asks Max that, the teenager looks at him like he's an alien. But he says yes.

Only when he's in Everett's arms does he realize how cold he was.

It's difficult not to squeeze him, but Reid can't bear the thought of hurting Everett either, so he just leans against his chest and breathes him in.

Under a small layer of antiseptic and sour sweat is the cotton-soft, earthy scent that Reid has come to know and enjoy over the past few days.

That thought chokes him up. The past few days. They've known each other for such a short time. And yet, Reid could have lost him today. They're only just starting out, still getting to know each other. But still. He can't bear the thought of not hugging him tomorrow.

Thoughtlessly, he raises a hand and lays it on Everett's waist for another point of contact. Not a good idea, as it turns out. Everett hisses and turns away from him.

He apologizes, but Everett doesn't even get to react before Reid is pushed aside and Max is pulling up his shirt. Reid can hear himself gasp, which might be comical if the bruise forming on Everett's ribs wasn't so massive.

"What happened there?" Max demands.

Everett sighs. "I have two broken ribs. They can't splint those, apparently, so I'll just have to deal.

"Broken—what did he do?"

Reid has to blink back tears. For the first time this evening, he's sure he doesn't want to know. Can they just go home? Would it be callous to ask that? He needs to get out of here soon if he wants to do it on his own two feet.

"We can talk about that tomorrow," Everett says firmly.

Max looks mutinous. "Today, you mean."

"Well, today, then. But they said I was allowed to leave, and I really just want to sleep. Can we please go home?"

Even if Reid weren't so tired, he'd wholeheartedly agree. Except for one minor detail. "Isn't your home a crime scene?"

Max whips around at him when he says this, and for a moment, Reid thinks he's mad at him. But then Max kicks one of the chairs into the wall with a mighty clang. "Fucking asshole!" he shouts.

Reid is just going to assume that he hasn't done anything bad enough to justify a reaction like that, so it must be about his father. One look at the grimace on Everett's face confirms this.

"I didn't think of that," Everett says, and then he considers the thought for a while. "But I don't really want to risk a hotel right now."

Yeah, Reid wouldn't either. "You could come back to mine. I have an air mattress. You guys can take the bed, and I can sleep in the living room."

It looks like Everett has some opinions on the sleeping arrangements, but a look at Max's drawn face makes him keep them to himself. And so they leave for Reid's apartment.

All of them are dragging their feet by the time they arrive.

Reid immediately flees into the bathroom, as much to relieve himself as to give the siblings the opportunity to talk.

When he emerges, the majority vote is for Max to sleep on the air mattress in the living room.

In Reid's opinion, that's not the greatest idea—mainly for nightmare reasons.

But he's also not going to fight them on this.

If they want him to sleep in his own bed, he will.

He finds something that's hopefully not too embarrassing for Max to sleep in and discovers along the way that Everett left the shirt and sweatpants he slept in the night before on the chair next to his bed.

Somehow, that's what makes him tear up. It looks like evidence—not only that Everett was here but also that he wanted to return.

That's how Everett finds him, perched on the edge of his bed, one hand covering his eyes, a pair of red and black pajamas in the other.

"Oh, Reid," he sighs. Gentle hands take the pajamas away. When he returns and Reid looks up, Everett is already wearing his sleep things. He carefully kneels in front of Reid, takes his hands, and kisses his knuckles. "You okay?"

No, Reid is not okay. But he nods anyway. He doesn't have the energy left to talk about it. Even though he feels ridiculous about it, he changes in the bathroom. He comes back to the sight of Everett already under the covers, blinking at him blearily.

"Can I hold you tonight?" he asks.

They end up on their sides, with Everett's arm slung over Reid's waist, holding hands.

Reid can feel Everett's breath on the back of his neck.

The slow, steady puffs are reassuring. It's a position Reid never thought he'd find himself in, but it's great.

And if a few tears seep into his pillow—well, who's to tell?