Page 98 of Small Sacrifices

So, in his moments of alertness, Reid watches over Everett's sleep and is comforted by the way Everett burrows into him, even if he feels uncomfortable about having someone's nose stuck directly into his armpit. He tries to match Everett's calm breaths as his own breathing rhythm threatens to get out of control again.

Reid doesn't remember even being close to falling asleep, but the next time he opens his eyes, there's a sliver of light dissecting the darkness of the living room and shining directly into his eyes. He recoils from it as soon as he blinks for the first time. That's when he notices Everett isn't plastered to him anymore. He's still on the bed next to Reid, but they're not touching.

Carefully, Reid turns onto his side—and the air leaves his lungs. What was red swelling around Everett's eye at midnight has now turned a vibrant purple. Reid's mouth runs dry at the sight of it. It's... he's never seen something like that in person. That's got to hurt, right? Even just lying there, with nothing touching it.

At first, he's so distracted by the sight of Everett's eye that he doesn't notice how still Everett is. Not relaxed, no. His breathing is controlled, almost labored. But he's not moving a finger, even though he must be awake.

"Good morning," Reid says, because he doesn't know what else to do.

"Morning," Everett rasps back. He makes no move to turn his head, but there's a twitch in the bruised mess around his eye that makes Reid think that, oh. Maybe he's got his other eye open and is staring at the ceiling.

"Are you—" Reid just about stops himself because that's a monumentally stupid question. "Do you need anything?"

That's not much better, but at least it doesn't make Reid cringe in embarrassment. Not that there's much hecouldoffer, but still. It's the thought that counts. Reid is having a lot of thoughts right now. It'd be nice if at least one of them was helpful.

Everett blows out a deep breath. "I have no idea. I mean, pain meds. But besides that..."

When Reid holds out the little blister pack, Everett sits up with a grunt, takes it, and turns it over to read what it says on theback. Then, he raises the eyebrow over his uninjured eye. "That's not gonna do much."

"It's all I have," Reid says. And when Everett pops out two of the tablets and swallows them dry, he bites his tongue to keep himself from pointing out you're only supposed to take one. He's still busy with that when Everett clears his throat.

"And how are you?"

Reid blinks at him. "Tired." That seems like the only thing appropriate to express right now. It's also the only thing he's sure of. "It was a long night. Good thing I don't have to go to work anymore. We can stay in bed as long as we like."

The joke falls flat. But he still gets a huff out of Everett, even if he doesn't smile. When his flat expression pinches into a frown, Reid is worried for a second. But Everett just shakes his head.

"I just feel so numb. Is it weird that I don't care about any of this right now?" He tilts his head at Reid. "I know people are going to lose their jobs, but I just wanna make sure Max is okay."

Oh dear. Reid folds his legs under him. "I don't think there's a right way to react to this. But if you don't mind me saying: I can understand why Max is angry. You really scared us yesterday. I wish you'd told us."

There are a lot more words clamoring to get out of his mouth, but Reid swallows them.Not helpful right now.Already, there's a defiant sheen in Everett's eyes.

"You would have stopped me. I couldn't let that happen. This… Heneedsto be in prison."

Right. Reid has a feeling that they're going to have a strongly worded discussion about this at some point, but now is hardly the time. Putting Everett on the defensive when it's all still so fresh would be cruel. No matter how numb he says he feels, that won't last forever. It's going to sink in at some point. What happened. What he risked.

Reid is still debating how best to react when Everett asks, "Wait, do people know yet?"

Damn it.That's something that Reid should have looked up instead of watching Everett sleep. "I don't know. Marisol mentioned they'd probably need a statement. I don't think that Coleman would say something without hearing from you directly."

Everett huffs out a sad sound, and his shoulders slump. "I don't want to make a statement. I was talking to the police for hours yesterday. Can't they use that?" Then, something occurs to him, and he stretches to reach for his phone. "Wait a minute."

It takes Everett only a few swipes to find what he was looking for—and when he does, he nods grimly. "They didn't delete the video."

"Video?" Reid asks.

"Well, I recorded my father yesterday. I thought they might delete it, but I think they just cloned my phone. Can I just give Marisol the video and let it speak for itself?"

Reid's throat tightens. He doesn't even want to imagine what Everett got on tape. It's horrible enough to know it happened, but the idea that just anyone might watch it… "Are you sure you want that out there?"

Everett huffs a breath. "Someone's going to leak it eventually. At least this way, it'll be me making the decision. I have nothing to be ashamed of."

Reid feels the weight of Everett's words. It's not a question of if, but when. But Everett isn't the only one who this will affect.

"I think you might need to talk to Max first. Didn't you say your father threatened him too? Max should at least know what he said before he has to watch it on TV."

Everett is already typing, and then Reid hears the swooping notification sound of an email being sent out into the ether. "I'lltalk to him," he says. "But this is the kind of thing they need to prepare for."

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