Infiltration - Spencer Reid x Reader

Chapter Sixteen

I am SO sorry for the delay in updating. To try and make up for it, here is an extra lengthy chapter: 

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You saw a light, brighter than any you had ever seen. It burned. Scorched the skin behind your eyelids. Tears slid down your face from the brightness. You were convinced that your contacts were going to weld straight to your eyeballs. You willed yourself to open your eyes, screaming in pain. You were hysterical, screaming over and over again for help. No one answered your cries and you looked into the Sun, awaiting whatever was to come next.

Night came across your vision again; you even saw the twinkling stars. You heard something so faint in the distance that you dismissed it as a hallucination.

Am I breathing?

You could feel nothing below your head. It was horrific. You were nothing. You were a mind and that was all.

Is this death?

Childhood images swam around in the murky waters of your mind, mingling with the brutal images that were burnt in your memory from your line of work. That was when you heard it:

"Does anyone have her medical records?"

You tried to scream out. You couldn't have a blood transfusion. You were missing proteins from your blood....

Please... I'll reject the blood... Please... Someone, please find the records...

"Does anyone have lorazepam? She is starting to panic again."

"Wait!" another, unfamiliar voice chimed in.

The room grew silent.

Am I talking out loud?

You repeated the same thing over and over, hoping that your voice, your thoughts, something was reaching the outside world. You pried your eyes open with sheer willpower, raising yourself ever so slightly. Blood soaked your body, your skin was stained crimson. You immediately felt nauseated at the sight. You turned your head gently, searching for the doctor. The room was so white, so clean, so sterile. And there you were, bleeding all over it.

"I...I can't have...a transfusion..." "I...I'll...reject..." You couldn't finish your sentence because you felt intensely dizzy. You caught another glimpse of your abdomen and thought you saw something besides blood. You weren't cut out for this sort of thing. You couldn't even watch medically based TV shows without feeling queasy...

When you woke up again, you were in a different room, and there was no longer blood seeping everywhere. You felt numb, and confused. Your stomach did flips reminiscing on the scene of your exposed abdomen and you knew you were going to be sick. Attempting to swing your legs over the side of the bed to bend down and search for a trash can, you hit a cord. Something started to beep frantically as you grasped the trashcan and were sick. You shook feverishly, exhausted from the effort of throwing up. You put the trashcan down and cradled your pounding head in your hands, eyes closed. Your head screamed and the room was silent in the wake of its beating. Someone was touching the back of your head gently, and you almost cowered away from it at first.

"The...lights..." You croaked before raising your head to see who was there.

The lights were quickly switched off and a cord was reattached. The beeping stopped and the pounding in your head lessened. The person who touched you earlier knelt down and lifted your legs to help you position back to lying down in the hospital bed. You kept your eyes firmly closed for a bit longer, meaning to open them as soon as the pounding left.

You didn't realize that you had fallen asleep waiting for the migraine to dissipate. Your breathing was slow instead of shallow, and you felt that you were able to grasp what had happened. You continued to lay still in the bed until you became aware of another person in the room. You opened your eyes and tilted your head to the side, only to find a sleeping Spencer Reid in a chair pulled close to your bed.

You couldn't help but smile. He was so... lovely. He seemed dreamlike with his messy hair and his unbuttoned cardigan, the light from the machines illuminating him with a soft glow. You pondered his resting state and unintentionally reached out your hand to him, placing it in his lap. You tilted your head back once again, and took repose in the dark room with the soft hum of the equipment surrounding you both.

The headache still lingered, but it was far better than it was. You couldn't believe how exhausted you still were. You felt your hand sliding away from Spencer's lap, and then heard his voice asking tentatively:

"(Y/N)? How do you feel? Is your head better? Does your abdomen hurt? Is there anything you would like?"

You tilted your head to the side, taking in Spencer's standing figure. You shook your head no softly, gesturing instead for him to sit beside you. Logically, you knew that you shouldn't be giving any directions when you were so obviously on strong pain killers and undoubtedly light headed from the blood loss. But that didn't matter to you right now. You just wanted Spencer to comfort you. To lie beside you; to keep you warm. So, he did.

Spencer gently got into the small bed beside you. He was so awkward sitting there, his hands to himself.

"Aw, come on Spencer. We've already shared a bed once before." You giggled uncontrollably, blushing bright red at the same time.

Who are you?! You chastised yourself.

Spencer was flushed too, but did something unexpected. He put his arms around you with the utmost care, and you slid down a bit.

His voice sounded wounded, broken. "I...I'm sorry." You could hear the strain, that his voice was about to crack.

"Why are you sorry?" you asked him with concern, wondering what on Earth could cause him to sound so upset.

"This... it's my fault. I shouldn't have let you go alone, especially knowing the unsub's nature. It was a mistake. An unforgivable one."

You felt his eyes move down to your lower torso, probably envisioning what you had seen earlier in the operating room.

"Spencer..." you said gently, "This is not your fault. I am fine."

Your words came out slowly, the picture of your deep wound again flashing in your mind. You felt queasy again, but concentrated on remaining steady, sinking a bit lower in the bed. The pain seared as you slid down, a white hot iron in your stomach.

You felt Spencer shaking his head.

"Spe-Spencer?" you asked.

"Yes? What is it, (Y/N)?"

"Could you please... I need something... My stomach... It hurts... I feel sick..."

You could feel Spencer's body stiffen as you said this.

"I- I will go inform a Nurse."

"Did they give me pills? Please...I think I'm going to black out." You stumbled a bit over the words, desperate for the horrible pain to be relieved.

Spencer's hand shook as he reached for the medicine, but he stopped midway. He looked at you as a tear slid down your face from the sheer intensity of the pain. He abruptly pulled away and got out of the bed, jogging out of the door.

You could hear a faint "Nurse?" "Nurse?" As the door swung shut.

Before you had time to contemplate why Spencer couldn't help you... You were sure that someone with a memory such as his could remember a dosing ... The pain blurred your vision completely, and more blackness danced around you.

You were getting tired of the dark. 

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I hope you guys are still enjoying the Fanfic! Let me know what you think in the comments. I hope 2017 has been good to you all so far :)