Work Text:
Another day, another hostage situation.
Spencer nearly sighed as he felt the knife press against his lower back, not quite hard enough to break skin. This happened far too often. He would have to take some time to consider why he was so appealing to unsubs who were looking for leverage.
“Listen, man,” Derek started, his gun trained firmly on the man behind Spencer. “I’m trying to help you out here, but if you move that knife one centimeter closer to him I will tear you apart.”
Spencer knew what was coming. Derek meant well, but this unsub was not one who would respond well to a challenge. The knife pierced his skin, several excruciating inches deep. The blond bit the inside of his cheek hard and clenched his jaw to keep from crying out. He had to focus, to think, to try to talk his way out of this.
“Morgan,” he gasped. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt me if you put your gun down.” He held his hands out in appeasement. “He won’t hurt me,” he repeated slowly, though the knife in his back was already proving otherwise.
Another tense moment passed. Finally, Morgan lowered his gun and, as predicted, the unsub’s hold on Spencer slackened just a bit. Sensing that this would be his only opportunity, Spencer rammed his elbow as hard as he could into the man’s gut. As he doubled over, Spencer ducked out from under his arm and Morgan took the opportunity to shoot, hitting him squarely in the shoulder.
The man screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder. Within moments, Spencer had forced him to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back. A few local officers rushed in, grabbing the man by the back of his jacket, dragging him to his feet and leading him to the squad car.
Spencer straightened up and tried to calm his racing heart.
“You okay?” Derek asked as he tucked away his gun and stepped closer. His dark eyes were filled with anxiety.
Spencer waved off his concern. “I’m fine. Just exhausted. I should probably work out more.”
“Come lift weights with me, Pretty Boy. I’ll whip you into shape.” Derek grinned his dazzling, toothy grin that crinkled his eyes in the corners and made Spencer light headed.
Extremely light headed.
Spencer frowned. The world spun.
“Reid, what’s wrong?” Derek placed his hand on his lower back, then pulled it back with a start. “You’re bleeding.”
“Oh,” Spencer responded absently. “I think I might faint now.”
He did.
~*~*~*~*~*~
He woke up to fluorescent lights and the acrid scent of antibacterial cleaners.
“Hey, I think he’s waking up.”
Spencer forced himself to open his eyes though he couldn’t help squinting in the light. His team was huddled around him, each face etched with worry.
Spencer cleared his throat and asked awkwardly, “Did they leave me any jello?”
Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed his hand. “No jello for you. You scared us all half to death, baby.”
The rest of the team took this as their cue to leave. They patted him and waved and wished him well as they left, and Spencer smiled gratefully.
His eyes flicked down to their interlocked fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Derek answered and sighed deeply. “You know, normal people would have said, ‘hey, I’m gushing blood from a large knife wound in my back’ instead of just bleeding all over the place and fainting.”
Spencer pulled Derek up onto the bed with him, maneuvering so that they could lie together comfortably. “Hate to break it to you,” he said quietly, already tired again, “but I’ve never been normal.”
Derek pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s why I love you.”
Spencer smiled and closed his eyes. “I love you, too. Now, about that jello…”