Okay, so this story is going to be a random mish mash of a bunch of different, most likely unrelated one-shots. All prompts can be found on the forum 'Criminal Minds Weekly Prompts', which I suggest you go check out! *Shameless advertising!*
The first one is for the Valentines Day prompt on the Criminal Minds Weekly Prompts forum!
'Your character has a near death experience and asks out the person they're in love with.'
Hope you guys like it! :D
Two people crept down the long, dark passageway. They held their guns and flashlights out in front of them, like shields against the unknown darkness ahead of them. The two small beams of light did little to illuminate their path, however, and they were forced to move cautiously.
The man fidgeted slightly, his bullet proof vest making him unusually uncomfortable. His heart was hammering, and he was amazed that he could hear anything over the sound of his breathing. He never had liked the darkness.
He snuck a look over at his female companion, who was looking as cool and calm as possible. He could tell that she was apprehensive as well though; her breathing was faster than usual. But her hair still looked perfect, sleek, and shiny. It was pulled up in a ponytail that hung loosely down her back.
He started and shook himself mentally, realizing that he had been totally distracted from the current task at hand. Which was travel the length of this tunnel, find the trapdoor, and take down the UnSub before he could hurt anyone else.
They kept creeping down the stone corridor, his sneakers crunching over the loose gravel, her heels clacking softly with every step she took. Suddenly, his foot caught on something protruding from the ground and he lurched forward, dropping his gun and light. His hands scrabbled at the walls, and he could feel the fingernail of the pinkie on his left hand catch on the rough stone. He let out an involuntary cry as the nail was ripped from its bed and he slammed into the ground.
"Are you alright?" his companion asked fearfully. She crouched on the ground next to him, helping him sit up against the wall. She ran and grabbed his flashlight and gun, setting them down next to him.
"It's my finger," he said, wincing as he caught a glimpse of it in the light. There was blood streaming down his finger already, escaping from the red and raw place that had been previously protected.
"Oh my god," she breathed when she saw the damage. She quickly set the flashlight down and unbuttoned the very bottom button on her blouse, ripping the material off to get a strip of cloth. He was very glad it was dark, as his eyes lingered much too long on the little bit of exposed skin on her stomach.
She gently grabbed his hand and examined his finger, muttering to herself a little. He could hear her say something about infection and hoping it grew back. He knew the statistics of each of them, and would have said so had he not been slightly distracted by her holding his hand so gently. She slowly wrapped the strip of cloth from her shirt around his finger, wincing every time he hissed with the pain of the cloth pressing into his sensitive skin.
"There," she said finally, tying off the ends of the cloth. She patted his hand and stood up, training her flashlight on the ground where he tripped. "Looks like you found the trapdoor."
He grabbed his flashlight and trained it on the ground too; seeing very clearly that he had caught his foot in the little handle sticking up from the ground. He stood up carefully, being careful of his damaged and throbbing finger.
She hooked her foot in the handle as well and kicked it open, catching the little door as it stood straight up. She shined her light down the hole, and he set his beam down as well. They could just see a flight of dangerous and rickety looking stairs leading down farther than the flashlight beam could illuminate.
"I'm going to go down," she said firmly, peering into the hole. "You follow after me, alright?"
"Are you sure? I could go first," he answered her, making eye contact with her and seeing the little glint of fear lodged there.
"No, I want to be the one to get this guy," she said, glaring into the trapdoor. She slowly began her descent, stepping sideways on the stairs to try and make sure she didn't fell. He followed after her, albeit a bit nervously.
After about thirty steps down, they finally reached solid ground again. They quickly cleared the large room they were deposited in, though they stared with apprehension at the many doors leading off of it. There must have been at least thirty doors.
"I'll start on this side, and you start over there?" she whispered, indicating the far corner. He nodded and they separated.
He walked over to the first door on the wall to his right, reaching out to grasp the handle. He swung it open and stepped inside, pointing his gun around in case he came face to face with anyone. But the room was very small, and completely bare. He stepped back out into the large room, leaving the door open so they knew that it had already been checked. He prepared himself to repeat the process with the door to the right, swinging the door open again. But the room looked completely identical. Very small and very empty.
He checked two more rooms, both with similar contents, before he heard something that made his heart stop. She suddenly screamed, and there was a violent scuffling noise before she let out a small whimper.
He immediately ran out of the room, gun drawn straight out in front of him. The UnSub had escaped from one of the rooms and attacked her when she had her back turned. He now held her by the throat; a hand weaved firmly in her hair, which had come down out of its ponytail. He held a gleaming knife to her side, pressed firmly just under her ribcage. He was using her as a shield.
"You don't have to do this, Mr. James," he said firmly. "Let her go and we can work something out."
"No!" the man holding her captive roared. "I've lost too much already!"
"Listen to me, you don't want to do this," he tried to start saying, before the UnSub scoffed and started laughing.
"Of course I do. Why do you think I'm still here? I could have been long gone by the time you FBI idiots got here!" he stated smugly.
"Just let her go." He made eye contact with her, silently communicating, telling her he was going to get her out of this mess no matter what. She smiled slightly under his gaze, something the UnSub was quick to notice.
He tightened his grip on the knife, pressing it farther into her skin, which made her let out an involuntary whimper of pain. The blood started to soak the side of her shirt slightly. The UnSub saw this and started laughing, which just infuriated him. He made eye contact with her again, and she winked at him.
Before he really knew what was going on, she allowed her legs to give out and she had dropped to the ground, out of the UnSub's arms, letting out a small scream as th knife was ripped from her side.
He didn't hesitate for a second. He took aim and shot, bullet finding its target. The UnSub whirled around and grunted in pain, before lumbering towards him. The shoulder wound had done little to stop him. The UnSub now ran at him, waving the knife in the air frantically. He shot again, and this time, the UnSub went down. He pointed his gun at him for a few more minutes, making sure that the UnSub was going to stay down.
When there was no movement from the defeated man, he ran over to where she was laying on the ground, attempting to pull herself up into a seated position. He immediately helped her, allowing her to set herself against the wall. He checked on the gash in her side from where she had caught the knife on the way down, noting the amount of blood seeping onto her shirt wasn't healthy.
"Get down here! The UnSub's down, but she's hurt!" he yelled into his walkie talkie, getting the affirmative reply back. He started to try and staunch the bleeding, placing his hand over top of the gash and ignoring the pain still emanating from his finger. She slowly raised her arm and brushed the stray locks of hair out of his face, prompting him to look up into her wide, beautiful eyes. She was breathing heavily from the stress of the wound on her side.
They sat looking at each other for a few seconds, before she whispered, "Spencer. I like you, you know."
He sat staring at her, mouth open. He was amazed. "W-what?"
She smiled at him, before closing the distance between them. She brushed her lips against his just lightly, her hand still in his hair. They broke apart just as thundering footsteps were heard behind them, and she grinned up at him mischievously.
The paramedics rushed in, getting between them. He wanted nothing more than to stay by her side, but he knew that he had to let them work. They lifted her onto a stretcher and carried her out and up the stairs, and she winked again as she disappeared from view.
He followed, flabbergasted. Even when she had a great slash up her side and was bleeding heavily, she could still be amazing.
That morning, he never would have believed it. An hour ago, he never would have believed it. But his dream girl just kissed him. He got up the stairs, back into the tunnel and all the way out. He was in a daze the entire way. He suddenly stood blinking in the sunshine, and he looked down at his hands, seeing them covered in her blood.
He ran over to the ambulance that she was being loaded in and climbed in after her, shouting to his surprised boss that he was going to ride with her. He grabbed a towel and wiped most of the blood off of his hands, hitting his finger again and letting out another small groan of pain.
One of the paramedics turned to him and asked to look at his finger, and he obliged, holding out his left hand. He quickly found her hand in his right and looked down at her, seeing that she was smiling weakly at him again.
As long as she was going to be okay, he had never been happier.
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