Page 95 of Small Sacrifices

Max scrambles for his phone. Near the couch, Reid can hear him gasp, and then he's sobbing again. Reid is next to him so fast that he doesn't even remember getting up. But it turns out to be a good thing. Hand clenched tightly on his phone, Max turns it so that Reid can see the screen. There's a text message from Everett.

im fine. Sacred Heart Hospital. Reid will drive u. u dont need to be scared anymore.

Oh, thank fucking God.Relief makes Reid's entire body feel weightless. If Everett is well enough for full sentences and contractions, then it's all going to be okay.

Suddenly, he's got his arms full of crying teenager. Max's sobs have subsided into sniffles, which is good, because even now, the sounds are overwhelmingly loud in Reid's ears. It's after 10 p.m.He's so tired his limbs are heavy. His mind is awake now, energy coursing through him, but he can still feel the ache in his arms and legs. And now he's getting more sensitive to sound. How the hell is he supposed to safely drive a car?

He wraps his arms around Max to hold him, hoping to give him some feeling of safety. If he's willing to hug a complete stranger, then clearly, he needs it. For a second, he closes his eyes to calm himself down, and immediately, they grow so heavy that he doesn't even need to make a decision anymore.

Reid won't drive Max to the hospital. But he will keep hugging him, open his phone behind his back, and order a rideshare.

Chapter 33: Don't be an idiot

Even though Max has largely calmed down by the time they arrive at Sacred Heart, the woman behind the way-too-brightly lit reception desk leans forward as soon as she sees him approaching.

"Hello, young man. Do you need help? Are you hurt?"

Max's shoulders lock up tight at being addressed that way, but he doesn't say anything about it. It's tempting to reach out and squeeze Max's shoulder, but Reid resists the urge. He doesn't want to risk causing any more discomfort.

"No," Max says. "But my brother texted me he was being brought here. I want to see him."

"When was this?"

"Like… eighty minutes ago?" Reid nods to confirm when he gets a look. At least he thinks it's right. It's too late to be doing any sort of math.

"Alright." The woman clacks away at her keyboard, the noise amplified by her long gel nails. It makes Reid want to plug his ears. "Traffic is good today, so he should have arrived by now. What's his name?"

"Everett Susumu Mackenzie."

What follows is silence. The woman's fingers have stalled on the keyboard and she's staring now, disbelief frozen on her face. After a moment, she composes herself, but Max has definitely noticed. He's straightened up, like he's trying to look taller.

"Do you have an ID?" she asks.

Of course.Reid is already berating himself for not making sure of that when he sees Max drag a little plastic card out of his wallet. It's just a student ID, which might not be enough on its own, but next to it, Max lays an ID which looks remarkably similar to Reid's old work ID and a credit card that also has his name on it. "I don't have my driver's license yet," he explains.

Squinting, the woman looks up and down between Max's face and the identification on her desk. "Pull your hair back for me?" she asks. Then she sighs. "Man, I really hope you're telling the truth. Otherwise, I'm about to be in huge trouble."

It's like a huge weight drops off Reid's shoulders. That means she'll tell them, right? She'll let them in to see Everett? Max's shoulders sag as well. Again, Reid has to keep himself from reaching out.

"You said he texted you." She bites down onto the edge of one of her nails, raps the nails of her other hand onto her desk a few times. Reid clenches his jaw at the noise. "Did he say what happened?"

"No." Max's voice is high and quiet. His eyes are roving around the room. Thankfully, this late at night, the people whoarethere are preoccupied with themselves. "But I know my dad was arrested. I can guess. It's happened before."

This time, at least, the woman keeps her face under control. But Reid can imagine it might be difficult. He himself still struggles with hearing Max call his fatherdad.Everett never does that, and for good reason.

"Right. Well. Police are documenting his injuries. If there is going to be a court case, this is very important. I can let you up to a family waiting room, but you can't see him yet."

"Are they bad?" Max's voice breaks on the last word and he cringes, but he soldiers on. "His injuries. Are they bad?"

"I don't know, honey." She looks almost patronizing in her pity. "But it's a good sign that they're documenting injuries instead of treating them. Usually, that means patients don't need urgent medical care."

Reid wants to ask what "usually" means—what happens in those situations where urgent medical care is needed—but when Max sags in relief, he decides those questions can wait. Instead, he gently touches Max's elbow, a small gesture to remind him he's not alone. Max gives him a grateful look.

They're guided to a small family lounge on the second floor, the same floor where Everett is. The room is cluttered with magazines and tissue boxes, clearly designed for families waiting through emergencies and difficult operations. The light is still too bright for Reid at this late hour, but at least it’s a bit softer and doesn’t make his eyes hurt as much.

Waiting is even more miserable now that they know something has happened, but not how bad it was. In Reid's living room, they at least had something interesting to entertain them and keep their minds off it. Here, they just have each other. Reid asks Max if he needs anything. Unsurprisingly, Max isn't interested in talking. He just puts his wireless earbuds in and watches something on his phone.

So Reid tries to figure out what else needs to be done. He sends Everett a text to tell him where they are, just in case that helps anything. Does he even still have his phone?

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