the violet effect // spencer reid

17 • breaking open

• chapter warnings: shooting, guns, being held hostage, mention of drug abuse, spoilers for s14e15 •

previously:

"Casey's eyes flickered with amusement. But Violet's gaze remained locked on Spencer. She was afraid she had just made the biggest mistake of her life-because if Casey's game didn't end soon, it would be the last thing she ever said."

•••

Spencer looked at Violet, compassion in his warm brown eyes.

Violet took a shaky breath, tears brimming. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But you deserve to know."

A subtle smile flickered on his face, soft and reassuring, as if telling her without words that it was okay.

Casey let out a sharp laugh, his voice filled with mockery. "Hot damn. Now that’s some last words right there. But not good enough to save your life." He raised the gun toward her, a manic glint in his eyes.

The sound of a gunshot shattered the tension. Casey’s body crumpled to the floor, lifeless. Violet blinked, stunned, her heart hammering in her chest. She turned to see Spencer, his gun still raised, the tape remnants dangling from his wrists. His expression was unreadable, a blend of focus and relief.

For a long moment, Violet stared at Casey’s lifeless body, then back at Spencer. She had never felt such overwhelming relief. Spencer quickly moved to her, pulling the tape from her hands. She wiped a tear from her cheek, her breath shaky.

They locked eyes, a thousand unspoken words passing between them. But before either could speak, the sound of crashing doors and shouts filled the air as SWAT officers and other agents stormed into the store.

Violet stood, her focus snapping back. "We need an ambulance," she called out, her voice steady despite everything. "Three down, three have been shot."

She crouched beside Judge Hamilton, her hand lightly resting on the woman’s arm. "Hang in there. Help’s coming."

Across the room, Spencer caught her gaze. It lingered for a moment before she looked away.

•••

Violet sat silently on the edge of the ambulance, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her gaze was distant, her mind replaying the harrowing events over and over like a reel stuck on loop. The paramedic had offered her some water, but she barely acknowledged it.

Spencer approached cautiously, his steps slow and deliberate. He sat down beside her, leaving just enough space to give her room but close enough for her to feel his presence.

"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence. "How are you holding up?"

Violet let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I’m... fine," she replied, though her tone betrayed her.

Spencer gave her a knowing look, his brow furrowing in gentle concern. "It’s okay if you’re not."

She didn’t respond, just stared at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with an invisible thread. He didn’t press her, letting the silence stretch between them like a fragile bridge.

Finally, after what felt like minutes, Violet spoke. "I just... I keep hearing the gunshot. Seeing him fall." Her voice wavered.

Spencer nodded, his voice calm. "That’s normal. It’s a lot to process, especially after something like this."

She turned to him, her eyes searching his face. "How do you do it? How do you just... keep going after something like that?"

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground. "It’s not easy," he admitted. "Sometimes, you don’t. Sometimes, you have to let yourself feel it before you can move past it."