One of a Kind
Spencer Reid always knew that one day he'd die in the line of duty. It was an obvious conclusion after everything that had happened to him. He'd been kidnapped, tortured, held captive in hostage situations, and even gotten addicted to drugs more times than the rest of his team had collectively.
Still, he had always assumed that he had more time. It was an irrational thought considering every year officers died in the line of duty, any of them could have been next. That didn't make it any easier.
There were a lot of things Spencer had always hoped to do before he died. He'd always hoped he'd get married, have at least one baby – even though they kind of freaked them out, watch them grow up, all the normal things. But then, Spencer Reid had never been normal. It was a fact.
So, instead of living that white picket fence life he was lying on the cold hard ground. Three bullets had pierced the Kevlar Vest he was wearing causing blood to pool around his body. Blood was also gathering in his lungs and his mouth.
It was a sign of internal bleeding but there was nothing else he could do but wait and hope his team came for him soon.
Who would be the one who'd find his body? Would it be Hotchner, the semi-fatherly figure, semi older brother figure in his life? How about Morgan, the older brother figure who had always pushed Reid to be more outgoing, especially with the women? Now he was wondering why he hadn't listened to him?
Maybe it'd be Rossi, the distant Uncle figure in his life. Would JJ be the one to find him, god, he hoped not. She'd never forgive herself, especially since she'd taken everything concerning him so hard after the incident with Tobias Henkel. Prentiss might be the one to find his body. She would most likely hide any pain, compartmentalizing everything as well as she does. He knew she'd put on a brave front, whether she'd cry behind closed doors was still a mystery to him. She'd handle it though.
He didn't know who'd find his body, but he pitied them. If he looked half as bad as he felt then he looked like shit.
Yet, the pain was slowly fading. Everything was growing cold in steady increments. It wouldn't be long now. He just hoped somebody would take care of his mother after he was gone.
That thought promptly in his mind he began to wonder what her reaction would be. Would she get teary eyed and cry or would she be lost in one of her episodes and not even notice. Hell, he couldn't even rely on her to mourn for him.
"Reid," a faint voice called in the darkness and Reid glanced around and tried calling out. His words were choked by the blood coating his throat. "Reid."
Two voices now, calling out for him, searching for him. One was female and one was male. God, he hoped they'd be okay after he was gone.
At that moment a bright light shone in his direction and he heard a yell.
"Oh my god, Reid. Guys, somebody get help," a female voice yelled as the light approached him. His eyes had been adjusted to the dark so long the lights blocked out the figure of the female but he could guess who it was.
"What," a male voice asked before stopping. "God no."
He felt someone else approach and kneel on the other side of him.
"He's lost a lot of blood," the female said. It almost sounded like Prentiss.
"Reid, can you hear me?" the male voice asked, sounding like Morgan. "Reid, say something, please."
"Tired," Reid mumbled, his voice thick, the words no louder than a whisper. He wasn't sure if they were even audible, even though he tried. They were gurgled by blood too which didn't help.
"I know you're tired Spencer, but I need you to hold on," Prentiss said and Reid knew it was bad. She'd never once called him Spencer before.
"Sorry," he mumbled once more as he closed his eyes, his body numb and cold. He was barely keeping himself awake as it was.
"No, Reid, don't do this. Don't you dare die on us," Prentiss cried, wetness hitting the hand she was holding. She was crying and Reid knew it. That was one assumption proven wrong.
"Reid, open your damn eyes right now. Don't you dare quit or I swear I'll kick your scrawny ass all the way back to Vegas," Morgan ranted, his voice concerned. Reid couldn't oblige, his body no longer responded to his will.
His mind was sluggish, his thoughts were slurring together into one big mess.
"Come on, Reid, respond to something," Prentiss begged.
"How is he," Rossi's voice asked as footsteps approached quickly.
"He's not responding and his pulse is slowing," Morgan said. That explained the slight pressure Reid felt on his neck.
Before Reid could think anything else he felt himself exhale one last breath and everything grew numb. There was nothing left. Spencer Reid left his body a hollow vessel.
Ten minutes later the paramedics arrived but they were too late. The man that had once been Spencer Reid was gone leaving behind a hole in the BAU that nobody would ever again fill like he had. Then again Spencer Reid was one of a kind.