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Summary
“How is he?” she asked, watching them shut the door and begin driving off. She just hoped that he didn't end up on the news. Spencer shook his head and shrugged.
“Seems okay, aside from the blood loss thing...just in shock. He's going to have a lot of stitches.”
“Like he needed more scars...” JJ muttered, her voice trailing off as she watched the flashing lights disappear into the distance. Spencer shrugged again, his shoulders outlined sharp by the headlights of the police barricade. It wasn’t that he felt indifferent, he was just...out of his element. The blood didn’t worry him, it was what came next. Hotch was dark, very dark, and he knew this was just the tip of the iceberg. It made him feel distant, all he wanted to do was get away from it. He couldn’t do anything to help.
“I guess,” he said softly. “I'm sure he's not thinking about that, though. That's not very Hotch. He's probably just mad that the bomb went off in the first place, before he could go storming in there to drag Billy out by his shirt collar.”