Note to Readers: Last chapter. Hope you like it, and thanks to imminentCalamity for letting me write this story. :) Also if you like this story, feel free to check out my other Criminal Minds story, Unknown.
7:05 am, Capital Plaza Apartments
Reid swallowed the thin metallic taste in his mouth, trying to ignore how much his whole body ached with exhaustion and pain. He glanced around the room, realizing something felt...different. He was no longer in the unsub's sanctuary, but he was in another similar cool dark room.
His heart seized with terror and his stomach clenched in fear as he realized what that meant. Nine times out of ten, if an unsub moved a victim, that meant the end game was near. Reid was about to die.
He was chained to a chair, like the one he'd been in at the man's sanctuary, but this room was smaller and more cluttered than the other one. Broken furniture was piled around the edges of the room, and he spotted some machinery that resembled a boiler and a fuse box against one of the walls. He couldn't quite tell, dark seemed to be creeping in around him.
It wasn't completely silent, either. He thought he heard traffic rushing past, footsteps on the ceiling, and a dim hum of chattering voices. There were other people here, if he yelled for help he might be able to escape.
A dim spark of hope flared inside of him, but it was immediately extinguished when, after his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he spotted the man crouched down in front of him, a smirk on his face. A bulge that could only be the handle of a gun protruded from his side, and Reid profusely hoped it was only loaded with blanks.
"Glad to see you've decided to join me again, Spencer," he gloated as he straightened up, casually pulling the gun from the waist of his pants.
"You know," he said as he held the gun up and examined it, "I could kill you right now. Or I couldn't. It's your choice, Spencer. Should I switch the cartridges or not?" he asked.
Reid's eyes widened in horror. Not this, anything but this. His head was throbbing too much for him to be able to reason his way out of this, and this type of psychological trick would fool even the best profiler. He studied the unsub's face in silence, trying to spot a micro-expression that would give him a clue. He couldn't make out much in the dark.
"What do you say, Dr. Reid? Should I shoot you now?" he asked slyly.
Reid paused, trying to work out his chances of survival. The unsub was going to kill him regardless, it was just a matter of when, and right now he had a fifty percent chance of fatality.
"No," Reid blurted on instinct, the knot in his stomach tightening in anxiety.
The man smirked and then turned away, and Reid heard him eject the first cartridge and slide the second into place with a firm click.
Cold prickles of sweat broke out all over his skin, but he couldn't tell if it was actually sweat or just more blood. Reid sat rigidly in his seat, his body shutting down as terror overtook him.
He stared at the deadly weapon as the unsub raised it and aimed it at his head, bracing himself for impact and forcing himself to keep his mind blank of anything but his gut intuition that told him he'd made the right choice and he'd have if anything a few more minutes for the team to find him.
The noise of the explosion was as forceful as the explosion of pain as a flash of light burst from the gun and struck Reid's forehead, and everything flared white before turning black. Over the ringing in his ears, he heard a dull high-pitched wail drawing closer, but he couldn't tell if it was coming from inside his head or out of it. Multiple mini-explosions mixed with a tumult of other noises drowned out all his other senses.
That's it, I chose wrong. I'm dying, he thought.
7:15 am, Capital Plaza Apartments
The tires screeched as Hotch slammed on the brakes, sirens still wailing behind them as cop cars pulled up to the building. In minutes bullet-vested agents and officers were rushing the building, the cops taking the second floor and the exterior, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, JJ, and Prentiss covering the first floor.
"This guy follows patterns, we should check the basement first," Prentiss remarked, and they all agreed, systematically clearing the first floor and then meeting up at the back of the building at the entrance to the basement, and hopefully the last place they'd have to look before finding their resident genius.
Hotch flanked one side of the door, JJ the other, Morgan in front with Prentiss and Rossi behind him. Hotch tried the handle and it was unlocked so he pulled it open, covering Morgan as he descended the stairs first.
"Looks like you were right, doctor. Sadly, your incredible brain won't do you any good now," they heard a grisly voice say, and then the unmistakable click of a bullet in the chamber.
"Drop your weapon," Hotch demanded as they all descended the stairs and circled around the man, trying to keep their eyes off the youngest member of their team.
He was chained to a chair, slumped over, not moving. He looked like a ghost his skin was so pale, but they couldn't miss the stark contrast of the inflamed red wounds, the marks of his torture, etched across his skin.
The man laughed. "You're too late, Aaron. Even if you save his life, he will never actually recover," he gloated.
"You proved your point. You're smarter than him, now put down the gun," Rossi said, playing to the unsub's ego.
"Did I really? Tell me, how did you find me, then?" he asked, the gun still in his hand as he languidly turned and pointed it at Reid.
"Because we know how people like you work," Hotch said and for the second time and explosion ricocheted through the room.
The man fell to the floor, his fingers still loosely curled around the handle of the gun. Bright red blood spilled from a hole in his head, dripping down his face like a crimson waterfall.
They all lowered their guns, staring at the two motionless people across from them.
JJ holstered her gun and rushed over, kicking the gun away from the unsub and undoing the chains shackling Reid to the chair. Prentiss joined her, taking a deep breath before pressing two fingers to Reid's neck.
"He's alive," she proclaimed, and they could practically feel the tension floating out of the room.
"I'll call an ambulance. Rossi, let Garcia know we found him," Hotch said, a smile almost creeping onto his lips.
Rossi nodded and headed back up the stairs, Hotch pulling out his phone and, after a last glance at the rest of his team, he followed.
Morgan stayed rooted to the spot, his gun dangling in his hand. It didn't look like Reid was alive. The almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest went nearly unnoticed under the filthy, bloody bandages wrapped around his lower torso and the star-shaped wound blossoming from his chest looked so painful it made Morgan's chest hurt. His pale skin was spattered with so many dark spots he couldn't tell what was bruise and what was dirt, and his face was a rainbow of injuries, bruises, cuts, dried blood, swollen features and a fresh bullet wound from the blank bullet the man had fired at him all mixed together so that he could barely recognize his best friend.
But Prentiss had said he was alive. That meant he would make it. He was strong, he could make it.
2:00 pm, Hospital
The pale-faced genius in the bed stirred, blinking open his eyes, at least as much as he could considering almost one whole side of his face was bandaged.
Morgan smiled. "Hey, Pretty Boy. You know you should really change your voicemail," he said, and Reid smiled wearily.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Pretty Boy- A Criminal Minds Fanfic
Фанфик"Who are y-" With a swift backhand to the face, Spencer was silenced, yet again. The force interrupted his balance and he swayed a bit before falling onto his back. The man stood above him, weapon pointed at his head.
