sociopath - spencer reid. ✔️

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"What if it's a trap?" JJ asked.

"Then we'll be prepared." Rossi responded.

"Spencer, Aeyla!!! We got a lead!!" Alvez shouted to the two who were on opposites sides of the coffee room. They dropped everything, taking off with the rest of the team.

The BAU arrived at the intersection, ordering citizens off the streets immediately. When Aeyla first stepped on the ground; she knew something wasn't right. It was too quiet, not enough chaos for how they had originally profiled the gang.

"Where are they?" She asked the team, feeling anxious.

"They're watching—I'm sure of it." Alvez replied.

"They're going to hit us with full force, just like they promised to." Rossi said, notifying the SWAT team.

"How do we know we aren't going into a trap?" Aeyla asked.

"No. Because a trap involves us not knowing what's ahead. But we know; we profiled them." Prentiss said with confidence, scanning the city.

Aeyla scanned the SWAT team, making sure every face was at least somewhat familiar to her. She was paranoid; paranoid that this was MS-13, and that somehow they got themselves back on their feet after Jaxton's death. That they had a new leader now. Nothing scared her more than that thought.

She squinted at a man standing amongst the officers, noticing his squeamish behavior and darting eyes. Aeyla surged forward, getting closer to examine when Spencer cut her off, pointing his gun to the same man she was eyeing.

"Spencer—" She called out with panic, eyes widening when the man stealthily pulled out a gun, aiming it ahead of him and at Spencer. Aeyla cried out, her first instinct being to shove Spencer out of away. A gunshot was fired from the man's barrel, and Aeyla felt her body fly back, searing pain erupting in her neck.

It all happened so fast.

"Aeyla!!!" She heard Spencer shout; the woman fell to the ground, gasping for air as she heard a series of gunshots fired all around her. Screams erupted left and right, groans and grunts escaping the lips of the victims. She knew people were dying; she knew that she was the first to get shot.

"Spencer...go!" She croaked out, wincing in pain. She couldn't see clearly, but she knew he was still there. "You'll get shot, you idiot." Aeyla murmured breathlessly, almost chuckling out of irony.

"Shit. Y-you're bleeding!" Spencer exclaimed, and the woman sighed heavily, feeling his hands press against the wound.

"Well no shit Sherlock." Aeyla choked out, shaking her head, feeling her half-opened eyes begin to close.

"Aeyla!" He cried out, shaking her aggressively.

Wow he's not gonna let me die either, huh? I can't have anything. Aeyla thought to herself, wanting to laugh even though the time was anything but appropriate.

"You're going to be fine. P-please stay awake. I'm here. I'm here, baby." She heard his voice call out to her, but it was growing distant. Aeyla tried to force her eyes open, get one more look at the love of her life—but she failed to do so.

She heard one more thing. It was a faint I love you, and Aeyla wasn't even sure if it was heaven calling out to her, or Spencer.

She wanted to say it back. Her lips tried to form those three words, but all she tasted as iron in her mouth.

I love you.

Aeyla felt her held spin in circles, feeling her world rumble and shake underneath her, every feeling and nerve in her body paralyzed with pain and shock. She felt hands on her, shaking her awake; but all Aeyla could truly register was the excruciating pain in her neck—which somehow seeped into the rest of her body and brain. At this point, everything just hurt.

Aeyla's last thought was that she had saved Spencer. That she was going to be the one to die, instead of him. And no matter how rude he had been to her, how much he made her silently cry in the middle of the night—Aeyla was glad. She was glad to have taken the bullet, glad to hear his voice for one last time, even if it was just him shouting and crying.

Aeyla knew that she would do it all over again for him.

;

Spencer felt the world fall apart before him, watching as Aeyla got pulled onto the gurney. He watched the chaos unfold before him; and then the aftermath. There were so many bodies; they were littered everywhere—police officers, SWAT members, teenagers, grown men and women—he counted nearly 24. He counted the bodies, over and over again, because that was the only thing he felt like he knew. The body count.

He was confused—feeling his team members engulf him in reassuring hugs—but he couldn't register it, everything felt so numb. He couldn't feel anything; only the shattering feeling in his heart he felt when he saw Aeyla get shot. Spencer felt a tear run down his cheek, not even letting out a single cry; because it was all happening inside. Inside, it was like a tornado tearing through every bone and muscle in his body—tearing it apart, into pieces. But on the outside, he was calm.

Spencer only reoccurring thought was that it should've been him. Over, and over again—it should've been him. He should've taken that shot, not her. She didn't have to save him—not after what he had done to her. Not after how he had been treating her for the past few weeks.

"Spencer!" Prentiss yelled, shaking him into awareness. "Look at me! She's going to be okay!" The woman barked at him, grabbing his face.

He gulped hard, inhaling shakily. The man couldn't breathe—feeling every way close up on him.

"Come on, let's get you inside." Prentiss said softly, pulling him inside the SUV. Spencer sat there for a few moments, still eerily silent as he stared out the window. "Spencer, I promise you that she'll be okay."

Spencer suddenly felt the skies crash on him—bursting in a frenzy of yells and sobs. He let it all out—feeling someone grab his shaking body and pull his face into their shoulder. Spencer smelled the cologne, recognizing it as Rossi. "I—I—it's my—" He choked out, sobbing viscously.

"No, Spencer. It's not. You couldn't have done anything." Rossi assured him.

"No! I could've taken it!" Spencer shouted angrily, shaking his head as tears fell down his cheeks. Regret filled every part of his body, along with guilt. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if she died because of him. If she died, and the last thing she would remember of him being how he bullied her for the two weeks.

"Spencer, stop it. If Aeyla was here right now, she'd be slapping you and telling you to get ahold of yourself." Rossi said sternly, pulling back and shaking the man.

"Rossi, I love her. I—I'm in love her—I can't live without her—" He repeated, as if she were to somehow hear. Spencer bit his lip, shaking his head with denial; he couldn't feel anything but pain.

"Okay. Then tell her that when she wakes up." Rossi said in a confident tone, patting the man on his back. Spencer could barely hear the man's words, his ears continuously ringing.

He was scared. More scared than ever that he wouldn't be able to ever tell her. Tell her how he actually felt this entire time—how much he loved her. How he would do anything for her. How he would do anything to feel her in his arms.

Spencer knew this was the result of getting attached—it always has been. At this moment, it truly felt like every good thing in his life were to eventually fade away.

Because she was everything to him.

;