Spencer Reid One Shots

Used

"Y/N, please....put the gun down. My name is Spencer Reid. I want to help you."

You shook your head and waved your gun erratically. You knew how this would end, you knew you weren't coming out of this alive.

"No one can help me now!" Your head hurt, your arms hurt, and you could feel your leg bleeding where you'd cut it on glass as you escaped the school.

"That's not true," the agent tried to reason with you as your brain briefly flashed back to the images of the carnage you'd committed earlier that day.

"Yes it is.... If I come with you, I go to jail."

"That's true... I can't keep you out of jail. But I can make sure you get the help you need to recover from what they did to you."

The agent crouched to the ground and placed his weapon on the floor before walking towards you, ignoring the call from the other agents.

"Y/N I know... I know what they did to you. And whilst I can't begin to comprehend how that felt for you, I do understand why you felt you had to do this."

"You.... You do?" You wavered slightly, tears streaming down your blood flecked face.

"I was bullied in high school... Horrifically so. I know what it's like to be the butt of everyone's jokes, I know what it's like to get shoved into lockers everyday, I know what's is like to be ridiculed on a daily basis... "

Your back was up again. "I wasn't just ridiculed. They used me... The whole.... the whole football team... They... they....."

You couldn't say it, the word was just too raw in your throat.

"I know," the agent whispered, close enough for you to hear his quiet words. "I know what they did to you. And I know that the school looked the other way, and that the local police department dismissed you and didn't investigate. That's not acceptable at all."

"They... they had to pay. Before they did it to someone else..."

"And they have paid Y/N," Spencer had seen the crime scene, the bloodied bodies lining the locker room, bullet holes in the walls from where she'd missed her targets before correcting her aim.

"They've paid for what they've done to you and they can't do it to anyone else. And the head of the school will be fired, and the police department will be investigated for not taking you seriously. Please though... Please put your gun down. If you don't, my supervisor will be forced to take you out.....and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Why?... I've killed people, I deserve to die. I WANT to die. Everytime I close my eyes... Everytime I try to sleep I can feel them on me, inside me. I can still hear them laughing.... "

"I know. And I know that will be hard to live with but we can get you the help that will make it easier. You'll go to jail but the judge will take into account what happened to you, why you did this. You'll still be able to see your mom, your baby sister. You don't want to leave them do you?"

"My mom will hate me for what I've done... "

"No," Spencer could feel the glare from his supervisor willing him to move out of the way. "Your mom loves you. And she's sorry she wasn't there for you... Please Y/N. Let me help you. If you die, they still win."

They would. Whether you did it by your own hand or suicide by cop, he was right. They'd win. Even though they were dead, they'd still win. If you lived, maybe one day you'd get out of jail. Maybe you could get over this, if the agent could get you the help he was promising.

You took a deep shaky breath and crouched to the floor, placing your gun down before standing back up.

"Y/N?" the agent stepped closer. "I have to cuff you now okay. But I'll stay with you when they take you in. And I'll make sure you get to see your mom and sister."

You nodded wearily, suddenly feeling so very tired as you held your wrists out in front of you.

Spencer cuffed you as gently as he could before placing his hand on your back and walking you forward.

They couldn't win. They wouldn't win. Not now.