T H I R T Y S E V E N
SCOUT SIGHED AS she glanced down at her shirt, or rather, Spencer's shirt.
As the team left in such a rush and there being no need to take a go-bag, she didn't have time to change out of the very obvious gym shirt. And so there she was, standing in the hallways of her old high school, wearing her secret - er - teammate's clothes after a crazy night, and trying her hardest not to stick out.
"Here." JJ handed her a bulletproof vest with the large lettering, FBI, written across the front.
She gratefully took it, "Thanks."
The school was supposed to be quiet, being as class didn't start for another half hour, but police officers and federal officials roamed the hallways. They were all dressed in helmets and donned large firearms at their waists. Scout sighed, touching her side where a gun should be, but just felt her own hip.
She struggled to put on the vest over her blazer, scared to take it off and revel the shirt. JJ, who stood next to her and stared, rising one of her eyebrows in confusion.
"Uh, Wiley? What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Scout shrugged, "Putting on my vest?"
"You look like Henry trying to put on his Sunday school dress shirt." She clicked her tongue and shook her head, "And keep in mind, he's in kindergarten."
"Wow, call the FBI and tell them we've got another kid genius. I think ours is expiring." Scout nudged in Spencer's direction.
JJ rolled her eyes and grabbed the vest out of her hands, "You take the jacket off and then you can put the vest on. It's not that hard."
"You're telling me, and to think this place actually let me graduate? Wow, the American tax dollars really are going down the drain at this point."
The blonde opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by the superintendent of the school as he gathered around the agents with a clipboard. According to the file, his name was Joe Garfield and had recently come in authority over the school. He was a stout man with a receding hairline and dressed in a worn out suit, looking very much out of place compared to the team.
"I'd like to formally thank each and every one of you for coming and looking after these students. While no eminent threat has been declared, we're grateful that the FBI is willing to be on site if a situation were to arise. Since there are so many of you, each classroom will have an agent that will supervise the classrooms as well as several of you stationed at each entrance of the school."
Hotch adjusted his earpiece and took a step forward, "That being said, every agent will need to wear bulletproof protection but personal firearms will be hidden. This is merely a precaution to calm the students and prevent hysteria."
He rose a brow towards the two women arguing beforehand and Scout sent him a sheepish smile. She quickly grabbed the vest back from JJ, biting down on her bottom lip as she shrugged off the blazer.
The superintendent narrowed his eyes as he read the words on her shirt.
"Trying to blend in?"
Scout's mouth dropped as she glanced at Spencer who was across the room. He shook his head bashfully, knowing that their little secret was revealed by the unknowing man.
"Well, I'm certainly short enough, sir."
Scout followed after Morgan as he watched the students walking into the building. She was assigned to a classroom on the second floor of the building but wanted to get a quick look around to see if anything had changed since the last time she was there.
"Are you mad at me?" She inquired, dodging a young boy with a stack of books in his hands.
"Now, why would I be mad at you, kid?"
Scout shrugged, "Because I really don't think there's a need for us to be here. That I think this is just some kid trying to pull a prank and it got out of hand."
"Look, I know you might think that but look at the facts," Morgan sighed and stopped to face her. "Last year there was 434 mass shootings in the United States alone. This averaged 1.19 mass shootings per day. In those shootings, 1,643 people were injured and 517 died, for a total of 2,160 victims."
"You sound like Reid, spitting out perfectly memorized facts."
"I have to. Those were innocent people: kids, teachers, administrators. If there's even a chance that we could save one person then I'm willing to take that risk. Aren't you?"
Scout bit down at her lip and nodded. She couldn't say it a loud but the only thing rushing through her brain was the number of people she had killed with her rifle.
It wasn't like she had a choice but subconsciously, it never register as her actually killing them. To ease whatever moral conscious she had left, she would blame the gun. If Scout wasn't handed that rifle then she wouldn't have fired the trigger.
But deep down, she knew that wasn't the case.
Even if she didn't have a gun, she could still kill each and every one of her targets. She was a trained assassin; skilled in blades, hand to hand combat, and survival instincts. If Xander told her to kill any random person, she could do it without hesitation.
Scout glanced around at the crowd of students. Hell, she could kill any of them right now and ideally not feel any guilt. They were all just blank faces, hollow bodies. She was trained to look at them like that and she wasn't sure if that could be rewired.
"Scout? Hey kid, you awake?" Morgan snapped his fingers.
"Hm? What's up?"
"You alright? It seemed like a just lost you for a second. Everything okay?"
She nodded and tucked a stand of falling hair away from her face, "Yeah, sorry. Just - being back here brings back some memories for me."
"High school tends to do that for some people. Didn't have the best experience?" Rossi said as he walked up to the pair, seemingly slipping himself into the conversation.
Scout chuckled.
"I guess you could say that, it just wasn't what people would call - ideal, I suppose."
Morgan glanced around, "I had a friend of mine in school who got shoved into the lockers everyday his freshman year."
"A friend of yours called You?" Scout raised a brow.
"No, a friend of mine named Shut Up."
The three walked inside the building and checked each classroom to make sure they were being looked after by another agent or officer. Morgan left to go and find Hotch during their walk, leaving Rossi and her to finish looking around. As they made their way up towards the second floor, Scout started to get nervous at the thought of actually being back in high school.
"Too much coffee this morning?" Rossi asked as he put a hand on her should and sending her a teasing smile.
"Oh ha, ha. You crack me up, Dave." She rolled her eyes and peered into the classroom she was supposed to look after.
"This used to be my old English classroom during my senior year. I had a teacher, Mrs. Hild, and she was amazing. To say the least, she taught me so much that I never threw out any of the notes I took that year. I think I still have them at the bottom of my desk at home."
"Then I think Mrs. Hild did her job as a teacher then." He smiled.
Scout paused and peered again, "Is it bad to say that I'm nervous. I feel like I'm going to turn back into a teenager if I walked into that classroom."
"Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Just be yourself and say something nice."
"Which one? I can't do both."
He chuckled and patted her back, "Take your pick. As for me, I think the Italian class down the hall is calling my name. It's about time that I put some students and their terrible accents into place."
And with a wink, Rossi strutted towards the classroom, leaving Scout to herself in a still nervous state of mind.
She walked in the class holding her breath back in her throat, something she usually did when sharpshooting. The thought was quickly shaken off when she stood face to face towards a full class of teenagers. Freshmen, from what she could assume.
"Thank goodness," The teacher muttered under her breath before turning to the class. "Class, because of the recent threats made towards the school, the FBI have taken it upon themselves to watch over us for the day. This is - er -"
"SSA agent Scout Wiley from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She took out the badge from her back pocket and showed it to the class for proper proof.
The students stared back at her with wide eyes, almost glassed over in awe. One hand stuck up from the back corner of the room, drawing her attention.
"Uh, yes?"
"How old are you? You look too young to be in the FBI. I thought you had to be an old fart to be accepted."
"Timothy!" The teacher gasped, ready to scold the student.
Scout chuckled, "It's fine, really. It's a valid question that I would've asked myself if I was in his shoes."
"I'm actually 29 years old so yes, I'm a bit on the younger side compared to my teammates. I'm actually the youngest agent that's a part of the BAU at this current moment. But the youngest person to ever join would have to be my colleague, who was 22 when he got the job. But I don't really count that compared to me cause he's a certifiable genius."
The teacher took a step forward to catch her attention, speaking in a low voice, "Do you mind if the students ask you a couple of questions? Career day is next week so it's on course with our lesson and I think it'll help them calm down a bit considering our situation."
"Not at all." Scout sent a reassuring smile to the class. "Any other questions? I'll be completely honest with you about anything, really."
Another boy from the front raised his hand, "So where are you from? Heaven?"
"Yep, that's right. I'm a ghost. I died fifteen years ago, kinda like that pick-up line. Next?"
The class chuckled as the boy slumped in his seat with bashful red cheeks. A girl with brown hair raised her hand next.
"What do you think about the CIA?"
"They're all a bunch of morons and think everyone lies."
"Wait, if everyone lies, then that means you're lying right now."
"I didn't say everybody always lies, Aristotle."
The teacher glanced at her class before leaning over to Scout, "Can you look over them for a second? I just need to head over to the bathroom real quick. Shouldn't take too long."
"I think manipulating serial killers prepared me enough to handle a bunch of teenagers." Scout clapped her hands together and turned back to the class.
"Okay, so who want to see a gunshot scar?"
Spencer stood outside the perimeter of the high school campus. He glanced towards Hotch who was discussing logistics with the local police and took note of the sunglasses covering his eyes.
Quickly, Spencer grabbed his own pair from his satchel and donned them on. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing straighter than before and continued to analyze the location.
"Something on your mind?"
Hotch came from behind and rose one of his eyebrows at the doctor in suspicion. The file in his hands was now closed and tucked away.
"Yeah," Reid licked his lips. "Why don't I look as cool as you do when you were sunglasses?"
He chuckled, "I think Morgan would say it's because you're too pretty. You never did give off that tough persona."
"Hey, but at least I can still try, right?"
No answer.
"Right?"
Hotch shook his head but refused to respond back. It was that kind of joking around that made Spencer grateful for his teammates.
It was common knowledge to most people that he came into contact with that he was socially awkward. He tended to be fixated on the most random facts and being a contributing factor in a conversation often led to Reid missing proper cues. And even though he went to the FBI academy, he had trouble with just about everything that wasn't book-related. Hell, physical training and obstacle courses were the worst and he only just had gotten even remotely comfortable with his gun.
An IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute could only get you so far in life.
As the phone in his pocket rang, Spencer's face immediately brightened when reading the caller I.D.
" SCOUT THE KNOCKOUT "
He wasn't surprised that the short agent changed the contact information on his phone when he wasn't looking. After all, he wasn't the most tech savvy and couldn't change it back even if he tried. That would be a problem to call Garcia in for help.
"Hey stranger."
"Hello, Scout the Knockout."
"Oh right, I forgot I did that. Oops. By the way, you're on speaker with the excited students of ninth grade English Lit."
A hoard of greetings sounded over the phone, causing him to pull the device away from his ear for a second before putting it back.
"Hi guys. How are you all holding up in there?"
Scout's voice came back, "We're all doing good here. But the thing is, I've got a couple of students really interested with that big brain of yours. Anything you can pull out of your magic hat to impress them? Cause frankly, I don't think they believe me."
A couple of giggles sounded off in the background.
"They don't?" Spencer scoffed in a eccentric way, "Well how many of them can repeat the entire length of Pi?"
"He's lying!" One voice said in the distance.
"Reid," Scout groaned, "Did you really have to pick Pi? That's the w-"
"3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510 58209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679."
There was an eerie silence over the other sign of the phone.
"Hello?" Spencer questioned, thinking that the line got disconnected or maybe Scout had hung up on him.
Small murmurs in the background disproved his theory.
"Is he right?"
"I didn't even know that many number existed."
"I bet he just said whatever popped into his brain."
"Well, I don't know Pi. Do you?"
Scout chuckled, "Okay guys, settle down. And keep in mind, you only had to hear the first 100 numbers. I've had to sit next to him on a flight as Doctor Reid repeated all the digits of Pi that were known to man."
"Actually," He interrupted. "There are still new additions being added to the solution of Pi everyday. It's infinite, that's kinda the whole point."
The sound of familiar steps walking towards him caused Spencer to look back and see Hotch staring with a curious look. He gave him a closed mouth smile before putting the phone down for a second.
"Who are you talking to?" The leader inquired.
"Wiley and the class she's looking over."
"Who else is she with?"
Spencer furrowed his brows, "No one else, from what I can tell. Why?"
"She's not supposed to be by herself," Hotch shook his head and went to grab the walkie talkie on the table near by.
"Why?"
"Because, she doesn't have a gun, Reid. She can't protect herself and the class, she's supposed to be with another agent or an armed police officer. Tell her to look for another agent near by. The hallways are being patrolled and she can ask one of the officers to station themself with her."
Spencer picked up his phone and pressed it against his ear, "Scout did you hear what Hotch said?"
"Shh, guys!" She yelled over the students talking, "What happened Reid? I didn't catch anything you said. Hold on, let me take you off speaker."
A sudden bang irrupted over the line which echoed all the way down the street to where Spencer was. He ducked down out of instinct, dropping the phone. The hoard of agents around him started to scramble and worked, calling around.
Hotch yelled out, "That's one shot! Someone get me eyes in that school and find out where it was located."
Spencer picked up his phone off the ground but when he went to listen, all he could hear was the sounds of students screaming and crying.
"Scout? Are you there?"
No response.
"Scout, please! Talk to me, what's going on in there?"
"Spencer?"
"Oh thank god, are you okay?"
A small pause, "That shot came from the second floor, the same floor we're on now. Fuck, I don't have a gun on me!"
"I know, I know. Just sit tight and-"
Another bang rifled through the air causing the commotion outside to rupture into a state of frenzy. Spencer wiped the sweat that was forming along the front of his hairline, pressing his hand against his forehead.
"Second floor, Hotch! It's coming from the second floor, same place where Wiley is located!" Reid yelled out.
"Spence," A small tremble of anger came from Scout's voice, the background was now quiet as he assumed she was able to get the students to stay silent.
"Yeah?"
"I think they're getting closer." It was a whisper but it was not frail.
Spencer knew the tone that was laced in her voice. She was mad, furious really. If she could, she would attack the nearest person but this emotion was directed towards someone else.
Another shot sounded.
"Scout-"
"Don't you dare, Doc. I've got the kids hiding behind the closets of the classroom but if that gun tries to make it's way in here, you know I won't make it easy for them."
"Please, could you just-"
He flinched when the forth bang ruptured in the air.
The sound of Scout's phone falling caused his heart to rush into a panic. Without even thinking, he bolted towards the entrance of the school but a strong pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Reid! Calm down!" Hotch's booming voiced commanded him.
"Scout's in there! She can't protect herself, she doesn't know how! I can't let that happen to her. I have to go in there, Hotch!"
"Spencer, don't let your emotions get in the way. You're not thinking straight. You know the procedure and you know the plan. We can't just head in now, think about the students. One small mistake and you'd be risking a life!"
"But Scout-"
"Can handle herself. She's smart, maybe even smarter than you. And she's a part of this team. You have to trust her, as a teammate and as someone who you care about."
"Look, kid, you don't want to do this."
Scout had her hands raised up to show that she had no weapons. Her face was calm, not riddled with emotion or panic but inside she was screaming.
A gun was pointed at her and on the other side of the barrel was what looked to be a 16 year old boy, fuming with frustration.
"Don't tell me what to do! Look who has the gun! Me, not you!"
"Please, just calm down. We can talk this out. All you have to do is put down the gun."
The teen looked at her with a disgusted stricken face, he walked closer to her, pointing the firearm directly to her forehead, "Talk? You wanna talk? Huh, I think it's gonna become a real lot harder for you to talk with a bullet in your head."
Scout closed her eyes, thankful that he hadn't noticed the students hiding but hoping that the BAU would come in and put an end to this.
'Fuck, what do I do? What do I do?' She thought to herself. 'What should I do? Wait. What did Xander tell me I should do?'
Xander stared at a young Scout Wiley, pointing his favorite gun, Smith & Wesson Model 65 revolver with a three-inch barrel and wood-colored grips, in front of her and directed towards her head. Her face was stoic and solid, careful to not show any panic towards him as that would only make the situation worse.
"You don't have a weapon and I show no mercy, what do you do?"
Scout swallowed hard but refused to make eye contact, "I - I corse you into dropping the gun."
"Wrong." Xander directed the gun away and shot around her, causing the smallest of flinches to instinctually occur.
"And why is that wrong, dolly?"
Scout sharply inhaled, "Do not try to reason with your enemy or plead for your life. Trying to engage with the enemy, ask him what he's doing, or to plead for your life is not effective and shows weakness. Don't waste your time by trying to talk to him -- you're better off fighting until you die."
"Good job," He tapped her cheek lightly with the firearm, "Where do you attack your enemy when you're as defenseless as this?"
"Aim high. Hurt your enemy in the face, eyes, shoulders, or neck, or arms, so that they are more likely to let go of their weapon. Stab them in the neck, gouge out their eyes, or stab them in the arm -- do anything you can to make them get rid of the weapon or to hurt them so the weapon is within your reach. Then you take your shot."
"And where is your shot?"
"Between the eyes."
Xander lowered his gun from her forehead and into Scout's vision. She would not more, she would not even tremor the slightest.
"And do you hesitate before taking your shot?"
"Never. Commit to the attack. Once you are in this situation, hesitation or panic can be seen as weakness. Be as aggressive as possible and attack with anything you can. Do not try to run or stop fighting, even if you are shot in the leg or arm."
Scout paused, "Killing the enemy is of the upmost importance."
"And if you don't?"
"Then you might as well kill yourself."
Xander's sly smile etched itself into her memory, "Good girl."
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" The teen cried out, shaking the gun like a madman.
Scout's eyes snapped opened and whatever animalistic nature that Xander has manipulated her brain with took control. In that moment, she was not an agent of the BAU. She was an assassin.
As quick as a blink of the eye, Scout grabbed the barrel of the gun with 1 hand and covered the ejection port with the other, trying to keep the muzzle pointed in a safe direction away. The teen pulled the trigger causing the gun to fire, but only once as her hand covered the ejection port. This caused the gun to malfunction and the weapon was not able to cycle another round.
Scout twisted his arm with the gun around to the right as she faced away from where the teen was positioned. She pushed him towards the ground as he let out an audible groan from the impact.
Immediately, Scout cleared and cycled out another round in manually, pointing the gun at the teenager.
"Stand down! Don't you dare move!" She yelled out.
The sound of Xander's voice echoed in her head, 'Finish the enemy, you always take your shot.'
"No." Scout whispered to herself, "Not this time, not anymore."
Keeping the gun directly pointed towards the teen, she went to the teacher's desk and grabbed the school's phone. She dialed the memorized number of Hotch's cell phone and waited until her picked up.
"Hotchner."
"Hey Hotch, I've got the kid apprehended on the second floor. You mind sending some backup to help me out here?"
"Right away."
As Scout hung up and placed the phone back, the teen dig out from his pocket another firearm and pointed it directly at her.
"Hey!" She lifted the gun at him, "Put that down."
But he merely stared at her, never breaking eye contact. In her peripheral vision, she could see the shine of the gun's metal fall from her direction.
"Good, now listen to me-"
And one last bang irrupted.
Scout's eyes went wide as the teen's body fell back from the impact. A hot liquid splattered on to her face and whatever breath that she was holding in was released.
To the 16 year old shooter, jail was not an option.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I know that this was a heavy subject for a lot of you but school shootings is something I feel very strongly about. I felt responsible for adding this to my book as I myself was in a shooting back in 3rd grade. It's scary and no child should go through that.
Hopefully you all can see where I'm coming from and can see the importance of this occurrence and how it affects Scout later on.
(psstt i've also got an new spencer reid story called OUTRUNNING KARMA if you wanna check that out.)
a special thanks to readers who comment:
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