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~ shots fired ~
prompt: "wake up!" character: spencer reid warnings: blood, guns, death
Your gun sits in your hands, the barrel pointing towards the unsub. "I don't want to have to do this, so how about you put your gun down?" The authority in your voice coming across more timid than expected.
"Put my gun down? If I do, you're just going to take me to jail and then who knows what happens to me. You don't care," his hands tremble as the gun points towards you, his feet slowly moving backwards. "No one ever cares, ever!"
You take the same amount of steps, not even noticing your co-workers opening the roof's door to assist you, "Darryl, a lot of people care about you, which is why they don't want you to make your situation worse."
Despite the distance remaining the same, you can see the tears flowing down his face, the light of other buildings illuminating the streaks. His mouth is in a frown, a dangerous frown, one that scares you more than death scares him. "No they don't! My wife didn't care, my children didn't care! You sure as hell don't care!" You can tell that his words mean the world to him, that he's telling the truth.
It feels like the whole world subdued. Like everything begun to move in slow motion, except for the sound of two gunshots. They ring through the air louder than ever before. You think to yourself, did I pull the trigger, who did if I didn't? You know you didn't, or at least you think you didn't. Adrenaline is rushing through you, your thoughts winding in a never ending circle of curiosity.
Behind the tears that begin to fall, you can barely see. But to see the outline of the unsub fall to the ground, makes you feel uncomfortable. Like everything you were working for before that moment was for nothing. The negotiations, the threat of your life, everything fell apart as he fell to the ground. Maybe it was because you work hard to stop every unsub, or maybe you feel sympathy for his emotions, but you feel upset.
Your knees soon buckle, making you fall to the ground. Your body collapses to the ground, shouting surrounds your being. Someone calls out your name, their hands holding your shoulders as they lower you to the ground. "y/n! I swear, I can't lose you," his voice, sweet like honey, overcomes you.
Another person begins to put pressure on your stomach, like they are sitting on you. A sound of pain escapes you, your hands reaching towards someone, anyone to help stop the pain. However, as soon as it started, it stopped.
Despite the confusion and pain that laces you, you could never forget the voice that called out your name. "Spencer?" You let out, your voice hoarse and quiet. Tears fall on your face, however, you can't quite distinguish whose it was. "You can't die on me, y/n. Someone's calling an ambulance," he cries out, his hands holding your shoulders even tighter.
"Who shot first?" You ask, a calm combing over you, the adrenaline masking any pain you once had. "What? Are you seriously asking me that right now?" Spencer asks, his voice more similar to his regular tone. Something that brings a feeling of regular-ness within you. His voice, brings a sense of normalcy.
"Who shot first, Spencer? I just want to know," you attempt to give the man you love a half smile, your hand covering the wound on your stomach. He lets out a sigh, taking one of his hands to wipe the tears from your face. "The unsub did, he shot you and then Derek shot him. Now, you're going to be okay, everything is going to be okay, because the ambulance is going to get here and you'll live."
"He did?" You question, biting your lip, "You'll have to thank Derek for me." Spencer looks taken aback, shaking his head in a feverish manner. "Tell Derek, for you? What are you talking about? You're going to get out of here, we're going to get out of here," Spencer practically yells, his mouth close enough to your face that it felt like the loudest thing he's ever said.
You raise your free hand, caressing his cheek, "I'm not going to, Spencer. At this point, I've lost maybe one and a half pints of blood, maybe more than that. And it hurts so fucking much to say this, but I will not make it for the ambulance to get here. Which is why, I want you to know that I love you so much."
This time, you know it's Spencer's tears on your cheek. Despite the pit in your stomach, the deep rooted fear of death, you know that it hurts Spencer more. "The pressure being put on your stomach right now has slowed the bleeding. You're going to make it, you have to make it y/n, for me," he grabs your hand from his cheek and holds it within his own.
"Spence, I love you so much, I forever will," you breath in sharply, the adrenaline subduing and the pain beginning. He shakes his head, "Don't talk like that y/n." You attempt to hold in any other tears, not wanting him to see you crying as you take your last breath. "I love you, y/n," Spencer laments, leaning his forehead against yours.
Soon, he realizes your eyes have closed and your breathing has stopped. "No! Wake up! Someone come help! Someone, please!" He shouts, paramedics come running from the stairwell, the world moving as slow as he had ever felt. Like they weren't moving as quickly as they could be, like no one was helping you. "Spence, you have to move," Derek tries to move him so that the paramedics could reach you, but Spencer could barely speak.
Derek grabs him, pulling him back from you, his arms outstretched like he can still hug you, still touch whatever living part of you is left. "Spencer! Let them work!" He tries to exclaim, Spencer slowly relaxing as he watches the paramedics move your body towards whatever gear they could bring upstairs.
He watches as they attempt to do CPR, quickly changing to fibrillation when they realize that it would not work. Jennifer gives him a hug, holding him tight as the fibrillation doesn't work. The moment feels surreal for every member of the team. They think about what they could've changed, except for Spencer. He just stands there, his arms at his sides, every ounce of strength or determination gone.
