Spencer hated guns.
It was a fact that few were aware of, especially given his eagerness to pass his gun qualifications test. But that had been a matter of pride and of safety. As a federal agent, he understood the benefit of being armed – he’d faced far more than his share of trigger-happy psychotics. Being able to carry and shoot a gun was an unfortunate but necessary part of the job. In spite of this, his abhorrence towards the weapons remained the same.
He figured that his disdain towards guns was a result of the power that they held. In an instant, they could tear the life from a person's body. They could end an existence. It was so much weight to place on such small pieces of metal. And he'd witnessed their destructive power firsthand, on more than one occasion. He'd watched the light leave Tobias Henkel's tear-filled eyes; he'd seen the empty expression on Philip Dowd's face as he fell to the floor. Both had had the life taken from them by Reid and his gun.
Reid lay on his back, his bony hands clutching his abdomen, feeling the warm, red liquid ooze from it uncomfortably. He could see Hotch yelling for an ambulance, but his voice sounded muffled to Reid's ears. Turning his head to the side, he saw their Unsub, Jeffery Taylor, face down on the ground as Morgan kneeled on his back and attempted to handcuff him. Nearby, other officers kept their weapons trained on him, ready for any surprise moves on his part.
"Reid?"
Spencer turned his head back to Gideon, who was kneeling next to him, his hands on top of Reid's as they both tried to keep pressure on the wound. Gideon looked scared, which was never a comforting sight for the young profiler.
"Try to stay with me, huh?" The older man soothed, his eyes tearing. "Let me see those eyes."
Until Gideon said it, Reid hadn't been aware that his eyes were closing. He blinked, and the world around him refocused. Hotch called for the ambulance again. He felt tired, but there was less pain than he would have thought. He could see people scrambling around him anxiously. They hadn't expected this. Reid hadn't even had a chance to pull his own weapon. Maybe that was for the best - one less gun fired in the world. He looked over at Morgan again, who seemed to have forgotten that he was still kneeling on the now-handcuffed Unsub's back and instead was fixing Reid with a concerned stare. Reid tried to give his friend a reassuring smile, but he was pretty sure it came off as a grimace.
He was so tired. He couldn't tell if it was the blood loss or the fact that they'd all been up for over twenty-six hours trying to find a lead in their case. Trying to catch a killer. It turned out it was all for nothing - the Unsub had found them instead. His eyelids were drooping again.
"Reid, you need to stay awake," Gideon scolded worriedly. "The ambulance is coming. Just stay awake. You're going to be alright."
Spencer tried to focus on his mentor's face. He could hear sirens in the distance and wished that they would hurry up so that he could get some sleep. He wondered if Tobias had felt like this. If the world had been muted and dark right before he took his last breath. He knew that Dowd hadn't had the time to feel anything but a millisecond of pain as the bullet tore through his forehead and lodged itself in his brain.
Hotch's face appeared over him. He definitely looked scared, and Reid knew he was thinking about when Elle had been shot. He tried to reassure his boss, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but his mouth wasn't cooperating properly. He emitted a few raspy gasps before the other profiler shook his head.
"They're coming Reid. Don't try to talk."
Gideon and Hotch both turned to look at something in the distance. The ambulance had arrived after what felt like an eternity, although Reid was fairly certain it had only been a few minutes.
New faces appeared around him. He felt his and Gideon's hands being nudged out of the way as the paramedics assessed the wound.
"Looks like a through and through. Doesn't appear to have caused any major damage, but he needs to get to a hospital right away."
Hotch nodded, looking marginally relieved at the paramedic's assessment. Morgan stood beside him, his face ashen. Reid felt a bit better - he wasn't going to die. Now if only they'd let him sleep.
"You're going to be alright, Reid. Just hang in there."
Spencer couldn't even tell whose voice that was. Everything was blurry, and he felt his eyes beginning to close again. He was dimly aware that he was being loaded onto a gurney. It began rolling and he opened his eyes again, surprised by the swarm of people surrounding him. He thought he saw JJ a few feet away, her eyes watching him concernedly as she attempted to corral the bystanders. He was glad no one else had been hit.
Reid felt the gurney slide into the back of the ambulance. Hotch and Gideon appeared again on either side of him, both of his bosses trying to be comforting while staying out of the paramedics' way. As the ambulance doors shut, he allowed unconsciousness to take him at last, the voices around him melting away. As the world faded to black, he felt Gideon’s hand clasp his own, and came to the brief yet sickening realization that both of them were slick with fresh blood. His blood.
Spencer really hated guns.
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