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“Is blowing yourself up part of the prosperous future God wants for you?” Spencer knows he’s talking too fast, like his old presentations in front of “peers” that are nearly a decade older than him, but he can’t stop himself. Talking is the only way that he’s going to be able to get through this alive.
Raising his rifle, Cyrus questions, “You think you know The Word better than I?”
Spencer wants to scream out that yes, yes, he probably does, but instead settles for, “No, I’m just demonstrating that you can use the Bible to manipulate anything.” After all, he’s had quite the experience.
“Matthew 10:24,” Cyrus starts, undeterred, “Do not suppose that I’ve come to the Earth to bring peace. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.”
Internally, Spencer curses the second it leaves his mouth. He knows he’s messed up, and when the rifle butt finds his abdomen, part of Spencer knows that he brought this upon himself. Spencer groans as he wills himself to not collapse to the floor.
Cyrus, on the other hand, doesn’t seem bothered. “You cannot convert my brothers,” He states, before slamming his rifle back into Spencer’s front. This time, he loses the battle and falls to the floor, groaning when he lands on his stomach.
“No one had to follow,” He mutters, pupils dilated. “God could’ve stopped me.”
And then, in a rather ironic turn of events, Cyrus is instantly stopped with multiple bullet wounds to the chest. He’s dead before he even hits the floor, and Spencer takes a breath of relief, albeit shallow. “He just did.”
SWAT clears the rest of the chapel, disarming Cyrus’ right hand men, as Morgan comes to squat by Spencer. “You alright, kid?”
With a quick nod, Spencer pushes himself off the ground and muses, “Fine. Where’s Emily?” His heart beats fast, knowing the possibilities of the answer.
Luckily, Morgan replies, “We got her out of here,” Before turning to Cyrus’ wife, “Sweetheart, come with me. We need to get you out of here! C’mon,” Morgan waves her forward, “Let’s go right now.”
Spencer makes the connection a second before Morgan does. As Jesse reaches for the detonator, Spencer yells to run, not taking an extra moment to look back at a girl that can’t be saved. It’s out of his control now.
The explosion is far worse than it was with Randall Garner, and as Spencer gets thrown to the ground, he wishes he didn’t have such a scale for being in explosions. Heat washes over his back like a blanket in the middle of summer, and a second later ashes greets him like a wave. As smoke obscures his vision, Spencer reaches out towards Morgan, ensuring that the other man is alright.
Morgan has the same idea, and is already trying to get Spencer to stand up, wrapping a comforting arm around him. He tries to ask if Spencer’s okay, but both of them end up coughing. After quickly clearing his throat, Morgan announces, “We’re okay.”
When Spencer looks up to see Emily, his entire world seems to finally calm down. The wind in his ears is silenced for the first time in over a day, and his chest loosens, just from seeing her with his own two eyes. Stumbling to Emily, he can’t help but fall into her arms, burying his face in her shoulder.
As they walk toward the rest of the BAU, Spencer forces himself to end the hug. Luckily he still gets Morgan’s hand on his shoulder as Emily talks to Jesse’s distraught mom.
“You good, pretty boy?” Morgan questions, keeping a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder.
Nodding, Spencer replies, “Now that I’m out.”
Face pulled up into concern, Hotch suddenly walks over and announces, “Prentiss and Reid, get checked with the medics, I’ll be there in a second. Morgan, we need you on the west to check the kids,”
Although he doesn’t look happy about it, Morgan nods, before turning to Spencer, “Go with Emily.”
“But I’m fine,”
“Humor me, kid.”
Spencer just makes a face, before begrudgingly stepping beside Emily, both of them slowly making their way towards a row of ambulances. Spencer’s ears have finally stopped ringing, and he feels much better now that he’s not stumbling around like a drunk. On the other hand, Emily’s looking more pale with every passing second.
Once they finally reach the makeshift ambulance bay, Spencer announces, “She needs help. She was in there for over a day,”
“So were you,” Emily points out as she’s manhandled to a cot.
“I wasn’t the one being tortured,” Spencer points out. “You were.”
After a preliminary inspection, the paramedics state, “We’re going to need to get you to a hospital. We can’t fix everything here.”
Before Emily can interrupt, Spencer juts in, “I’m going with her.”
The paramedic jerks his head towards the vehicle. “Get in then, we’re going to leave in a second.” Before kicking Emily’s stretcher into a locked position.
Spencer stays on the bench seat, nervously watching as hands palpate parts of Emily’s body. He doesn’t know what went down when they were separated, but he does know that it was his fault. He should’ve been the one to be tortured.
Spencer jumps when a hand is placed on his shoulder. “Are you alright, sir?”
Quickly nodding, Spencer insists, “I’m fine. Just a little dirty.”
“Take some water?” One of the paramedics offers, holding out a plastic bottle.
The lid makes a satisfying crack as it opens, and Spencer nearly gulps down the entire bottle. Although he wasn’t completely deprived of water, Spencer definitely needed this. With a frown, he looks down and questions, “How’re you feeling, Emily?”
Looking more annoyed than anything else, she mutters, “Oh I’m just dandy. You better call Hotch, Reid. He’s going to freak out when he realizes we’re both missing.”
“I never got my phone back,” Spencer points out. “I’ll call at the hospital.”
“And then you’ll get checked out?”
“I don’t need to get checked out.” Spencer counters. “I’m fine.”
Not in much of an arguing mood, Emily turns towards one of the paramedics and requests, “Make sure he gets seen? He was in the explosion.”
The paramedic instantly turns towards Spencer. “You didn’t mention that,”
“I was far enough away from the blast, I’m fine. I can breathe and my ears aren’t ringing.” Spencer mutters. Ideally he’d curl up on himself, but now that his adrenaline is finally going back down, his ribs are beginning to hurt.
Emily grumbles something in response, but it isn’t clear enough for Spencer to hear.
The rest of the ride to the hospital is largely uneventful, and they end up getting there faster than Spencer would expect, but he’s pretty sure he spaced out during part of it.
Emily is quickly whisked away to a sectioned off area of the ER, while Spencer is quietly led to the waiting room. He feels a bit awkward, covered in soot and grime, unlike the rest of the people. Spencer just looks down and tries to avoid eye contact.
Walking over to the front desk, he asks, “Can I use the phone?”
The attendee takes one look at Spencer and nods, “Sure, honey. Come ‘round the corner here.”
Easily punching in his Unit Chief’s number, Spencer brings the phone up to his ear, leaning slightly on the front desk.
“Hotchner.”
“Hey Hotch, it’s Reid.”
“Reid,” Hotch sniffs, “Where are you calling from? I don’t recognize this number.”
Wincing, Spencer admits, “Er, the hospital?”
Instantly, Hotch questions, “Why are at the hospital? Is Emily okay?”
“She’s fine,” Spencer nods, even though Hotch can’t see it. “They wanted to take her in just in case, I think.”
He hears Hotch sigh on the other end, before announcing, “We’ll be there soon. The director wants us for some clean-up, but we can get out of it.”
Spencer frowns. “What’s going on?”
“You’re going to have a lot of paperwork when we get home.” Hotch sighs. “Keep an eye on Emily, we won’t be long.”
“Got it. Bye, Hotch.”
“Bye.” Hotch clicks off the phone a fraction of a second after the word, and Spencer’s left awkwardly putting the phone back in its cradle. Looking up at the female staff member, Spencer gives an awkward smile, “Thanks.”
Smiling, she replies, “No problem, honey. Bathrooms are to the left, why don’t you go wash off?”
Spencer nods, before turning in that direction. His chest burns when he spins to the side, but he pushes that thought away. Luckily, the bathrooms aren’t too far away, and before he knows it he’s standing in front of a sink. Or, more accurately for him, leaning into the sink.
All of the adrenaline has finally worn off, and Spencer’s left with low blood sugar, on top of not eating for the past day. The porcelain sink is the only thing keeping him upright.
With a damp paper towel, Spencer awkwardly tries to rub some of the soot and ash off of him, wincing when he comes across cuts he didn’t know he had. After nearly five minutes, he finally feels somewhat human again, and he sighs of relief.
At least, he would’ve, if his ribs let him. Wincing, Spencer groans as his ribs scream when he tries to take a deep breath in. Spencer suffices for just taking shallow breaths for the time being. He’ll deal with it later, once he knows Emily is okay.
Stiffly, Spencer turns his entire body to the side, avoiding twisting if all possible. He trudges back to the waiting room, ignoring the fact that there’s definitely still dirt and ash in and around his hair.
Going back up to the desk, he asks with a wince, “Do you, uh, do you know anything about Emily Prentiss?”
“Lemme check,” The woman replies, typing away with acrylic nails that remind him of Garcia. “Mm, not yet. When’d she come in?”
Spencer clutches the edge of the desk with both of his hands and blinks a few times. “Uhm,” Sucking in a breath, he answers, “Not long ago. Maybe ten minutes?” Spencer frowns. He always knows how much time has passed, courtesy of a bit of practice and his eidetic memory, so why can’t he remember right now?
“Are you feelin’ alright, honey?”
“I’m okay,” Spencer nods.
With a frown, she recommends, “Why don’t we sit you down, okay?”
Numbly Spencer nods, before losing his grip on the desk. He can feel his body collapse down to the side, but Spencer can’t do anything to stop it from happening.
“Sir? Sir!”
Spencer wants to wave her off, to say that he’s just fine, but his brain isn’t doing the best as far as sending signals to his limbs at the moment. His other hand loses its grip, and suddenly his head is bouncing off the floor. When Spencer tries to look up, his eyes roll back in his head.
*
The first thing Spencer notices when he wakes up is how bad his mouth tastes. He, quite obviously, hadn’t been able to brush his teeth for the past few days, and he can definitely taste it.
“Hey, pretty boy. You with us?”
Blinking, Spencer looks toward the sound. “Morgan?”
“There he is. How’re you feeling?”
Running his tongue over his teeth he replies, “My mouth tastes weird. Can I have some water?” He asks, attempting to push himself up. Very quickly his torso screams out, and he falls back into the bed. “What happened?”
Pouring a bit of water into a styrofoam cup, Morgan answers, “You collapsed in the middle of the waiting room. Does that ring a bell?”
Spencer graciously accepts the cup. “Is Emily okay?”
“She’s fine,” Morgan answers, before peering out the door at someone Spencer can’t see. “Hey, Hotch. Look who’s up,”
“Hotch?” Spencer asks as he steps in the room, looking rather tired.
“Reid,” He greets. “When’d you wake up?”
Shrugging, Spencer replies, “Just a minute ago. Is everything okay?”
Hotch rubs a tired hand over his face. “Reid, why didn’t you tell anyone you were hurt?”
“I didn’t realize I was hurt.” Spencer answers honestly.
After opening his mouth like he wants to say something, Hotch then quickly closes it, changing his words. “How’d you manage to break two ribs from an explosion anyway?”
Before Spencer can stop himself, he easily replies, “It wasn’t from the explosion.”
“Excuse me?”
Spencer looks away, eyes facing everywhere but the two other men in the room. “It was, a, uh, it was just before the explosion?” He tries.
“Reid. What happened?”
“Honestly, it was my fault-”
Not in the mood to play this game, Hotch interrupts, “What happened?”
“I tried to explain to Cyrus that what he was doing was wrong by using Bible quotes, but I should’ve realized that he was too far gone. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to take the bait.”
Impatient, Morgan points out, “You still haven’t told us what happened,”
Mumbling, Reid awkwardly replies, “He hit me with a rifle-
“He what?!” Morgan growls, balling his fists. “I swear, if that man wasn’t already dead, I’d-”
“Morgan.” Hotch interrupts, before turning back to Spencer. “Why didn’t you tell any of us?” He questions, masterfully hiding his emotions.
“I was worried about Emily?” Spencer shrugs.
Morgan grits his teeth, “Oh, son of a bitch,”
“What?”
“That’s why you were on the fucking floor when we busted in, right?” Morgan asks.
Even though he has perfect memory recall, Spencer still answers, “I think so,”
Shaking his head, Morgan mutters, “A few minutes- a few seconds off. Goddammit.”
Motioning with his head to the outside hallway, Hotch requests, “Morgan, take a walk. Clear your head. This isn’t anyone’s fault but Cyrus’. Don’t give the hospital staff a reason to kick you out.”
Morgan grumbles something, but dutifully stands up and leaves.
After he’s out of ear shot, Hotch asks Spencer, “Be honest, Reid. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” Spencer nods. “A little tired. And Emily’s okay?”
“Emily’s just fine. No breaks, just bruises.”
“Good.”
The two sit in silence for a few moments, before Spencer gives Hotch a look. “Why are you making that face?”
“What face?”
“The ‘grumpy’ face.”
Deepening his frown, Hotch counters, “I don’t have a ‘grumpy’ face.”
With raised eyebrows, Spencer insists, “Yeah you do. It’s the face you’re making right now.”
“This is just my normal face.”
“Exactly.”
Sighing deeply, Hotch questions, “Reid, what are you getting at?”
“You only make that face when you’re concerned. If Emily and I are both okay, what are you concerned about?”
Shaking his head, Hotch replies, “The fact that I let you go.”
“What do you mean? Let me go where? To Colorado? You couldn’t have known that this would happen.” Spencer states.
“I let you go right out of my sight,” Hotch explains. “After the explosion. I should’ve known that you were going to be hurt, especially after the state Prentiss was in.”
Quickly, Spencer defends, “Emily got tortured, Hotch. Tortured. Of course she was the one you should’ve been worried about!”
“But it shouldn’t have taken away my worry for you.”
Spencer stays silent for a few moments. “You were worried for me?”
“You were missing in a religious cult for almost two days, Reid. Ring any bells?”
Frowning, Spencer points out, “But I was fine,”
“‘Fine’ enough that you landed yourself in the hospital?” Hotch asks in a no-nonsense tone.
Ignoring the question, Spencer asks his own, “Why were you worried for me?”
“You’re one of my agents,” Hotch plainly states. “And I was worried that the next time I saw you it was just going to be a body.”
“Really?”
Hotch frowns. What doesn’t his youngest agent understand about people being worried about him? “Yes, really. All of us were worried about you and Emily.”
Smiling softly, Spencer confesses, “Thank you.”
Although Hotch doesn’t want to leave it off here, he can see Spencer’s eyes threatening to close, so he doesn’t have much of a choice. “Drink some water, and get some rest, Spencer. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“‘S the evening?”
“Yep,” Hotch answers, taking a glance at his watch.
“Oh. Good night, Hotch.”
Smiling fondly, the Unit Chief replies, “Good night.”