Close | A Spencer Reid Story

16. Promise

Spencer's POV.

"I'm fine," I repeated for the millionth time.

"You got shot Reid. You're not fine," Emily disagreed, pacing back and forth the ambulance as an EMT tended to my wound.

"That should do it." The paramedic began packing away his equipment. "You're lucky it only grazed through and broke the skin. So, a few stiches are all you needed. But it will be painful. It's my recommendation that you allow us to accompany you to the hospital and let a physician check you out and prescribe some pain medication and potentially prophylactic antibiotics."

"No," I hurriedly replied, startling the EMT. "I don't need anything for the pain," I whispered. But Emily caught my eye. We never talked about it out loud, but we all knew. I didn't need more temptation for my addiction.

The paramedic disagreed with my choice. "I advise you..."

"I'll be fine," I reiterated, jumping up from the floor of the ambulance and landing my feet firmly on the ground. "I just want to lie on my bed," I informed Emily who was outwardly displeased by my choice.

"Come on," she sighed. "Me and Simmons will drop you back at the hotel before we head to the police department."

I clutched my arm, pressing it close to my side as I made my way to the SUV that seemed to be parked so far away, near the police perimeter. I probably looked stupid with one sleeve rolled up high and the other only to my elbow.

"Dr Reid?" In the distance the small voice that I could not forget called out to me. I looked around to see where it was coming from.

It wasn't until I felt a gentle tug on trouser leg that I saw her. Megan looked about me, accompanied by her tear-streaked mother and father.

I crouched down next to her, so that I was level with her.

"I'm sorry." Megan frowned at the bandage on my arm.

"Why are you sorry?"

"You got hurt because of me." Megan blinked and tear spilled from her eyes.

"This was definitely not your fault. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

She kept staring at my arm. "If it hurts you can always eat ice cream. Ice cream always make me feel better. Ice cream makes everything better."

I couldn't keep in my laughter. My entire body shook as I laughed.

She looked at my almost horrified. "What?"

"I know someone who says exactly the same thing. And she would probably suggest that too if she were here right now." My thoughts wandered to Y/N and her not so hidden ice cream addiction. I had too many pictures on my phone of Y/N clutching a whole pint of ice cream in different scenarios.

"Who?" she asked out of curiosity.

"That's not polite, Megan," her mother, who was patiently waiting intervened.

"It's okay," I reassured her mother. I turned back to Megan. I used my uninjured arm to retrieve my phone. I pulled up a picture of me and Y/N at a funfair. "My girlfriend, Y/N. She loves ice cream. She could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

Megan analysed the picture intently, like only an unfiltered child could. "She's pretty. Where is she?"

"She is," I agreed. "She's back in DC."

"Does she make you happy?"

My eyebrows furrowed unsure why she asked me that. "Yes, she does."

"Do you make her happy?"

"Um... I think so." I rubbed the side of my eyebrow.

"Do you love her?"

I fumbled over my words. "Umm... erm."

"Megan... I think we should let Dr Reid get some rest." Megan's mother saved me from embarrassing myself.

I smiled back at her gratefully, waving goodbye to Megan with my aching arm. I winced as I committed to the wave.

When I got back to my hotel room, the bed was calling my name. I kicked off my shoes and curled up into the be immersing myself in the darkness.

That was until I got a call.

Blindly, I answered the call.

"Reid," I croaked.

"Spencer?" It was Y/N. Clearly, she was taken aback by my greeting.

"Y/N." I sat up in the bed. "Hi. Sorry, I didn't look at the caller ID."

"That's okay."

Then silence entered the call.

"Y/N is everything okay."

"Um, yeah," she replied uncertainly.

Her calling was unusual. "You aren't normally the one that calls when I'm on a case." It was an unspoken tradition between the two of us that when I was on a case, I would be the one to call, given my unpredictable schedule.

"Yeah, I know. I... er... I don't know, something just felt a little off. Ummm. Are you okay?" She sounded uncomfortable and worried, but she was trying to play it off.

"I'm fine. Did Garcia tell you?" Penny must have told Y/N.

"Did Penelope tell me what?" The pitch of Y/N's voice peaked. "Spencer?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Spencer." She didn't believe me for a second.

"The unsub shot at us. It grazed my arm. But I'm fine. They just gave me a few stitches."

She gasped on the other end of the line. "Please tell me you went to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," I sheepishly replied.

"Spencer," she shrieked. "Can you act like you got shot. I'm calling David to take you to the hospital right now."

"Y/N, Y/N... I'm fine. You'll see. We fly back tomorrow evening. If I feel worse, I promise I'll got to get checked."

"I knew something was wrong," she muttered. "I'm going to be having words with Penelope. Why didn't she tell me?" Y/N huffed. Then her tone changed. "Spencer, are you hurting?"

"A little," I whispered."

"Do... Do you want pain med..."

"No," I interrupted her. "No. I can live without them."

"Okay," she breathed in relief. "Get some rest. And I'm holding you to the promise that you'll go to the hospital if the pain gets worse. I swear to go Spencer, I'm not joking."

"I promise."

"Goodnight, Spencer."

Just as she ended the call, a series of feverish knocks at the door made me jump.

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Bad things happening in the next chapter 🙈