- Part 2 of 2 -

Warnings: Mentions of a hostage situation, survivor's guilt, memory loss. It's pretty mild compared to the first part.

Pain.

It was the first thing to hit me.

It's like I was drowning in a fog of blackness and voices, and each time I tried to drag myself out, every nerve in my body decided to wail in protest. It started in my side, just above my right hip, with heat. It quickly felt like someone was putting out a wild fire with my body, the agony coursing through my joints. I tried to move, to blink, to scream... I heard my name called faintly from somewhere to my left... a flicker of light.

My eyes were open.

The realisation hit me like a runaway train; and as if that had been the spark I needed, the rest of me slammed back into reality with a tidal wave of nausea I had to squeeze my eyes shut against until it went away.

"Can you hear me?"

Emily? What was she doing here?

She was holding my hand, stroking the hair away from my face. What the hell happened to me? Cautiously, I opened my eyes again. The room was stark white and blurry, my eyes stung from how bright it was. Slowly, my vision cleared and I could make out the wide windows, the teal-green leather couch that looked saggy and slightly careworn, and the rails above and around my bed on which a blue curtain hung... A hospital room.

"Hey," Emily was there, hovering above me. The moment I saw her I crumbled like a lost child, tears springing up to burn my dry eyes, my throat scorching with the effort of sobbing. I reached for her- my limbs felt like lead and ice, incredibly cold and incredibly hard to move- and she swamped me, leaning over my body and hugging me loosely, but no less lovingly. She was trying her best not to hurt me. "You're okay, I got ya," she whispered, and I could feel her crying too.

"Emily," I tried to say, but my voice was indistinguishable. I took a deep breath, and raised a shaky hand to touch my lips. My fingers brushed against something plastic in my nose; for a minute, I panicked, before the realisation of being hospitalised set in and I figured it was breathing tubes. Why did I need breathing tubes? I wasn't sick, was I? Had there been an accident? I could remember very, very little...

Emily pulled away and adjusted the bed, calling for a nurse as she did so. There was a plastic cup of water on the end table, a yellow straw sitting in wait. Had they known I'd wake up today? Or had that been sitting there for hours, waiting? I tried to hold the cup for myself, and Emily shook her head. "You're not strong enough yet, honey. Let the morphine wear off."

Morphine? God, if I was on morphine, why did waking up hurt so much? I sipped the water, barely enough to soothe my parched throat, and longed to just drink the rest. Emily took the cup away and I licked my lips, eying it up. She picked up on my line of sight and smiled. "You have to take it slowly."

I nodded and closed my eyes, moving my tongue around my mouth. I tasted horrible. I needed water, a mint, a toothbrush. "Emily... what happened?" Bloody hell. It had never taken so much effort to talk before. I felt exhausted and I'd barely strung a sentence together.

Emily studied my face, before she reached for my hand. I was grateful for the contact. "What do you remember?" she asked softly. I felt like one of our victims... it was an odd feeling, though technically I wasone.

Closing my eyes, I backtracked through my memories. "Garcia found us an address..." I murmured, recalling the grim look Hotch gave us as we geared up to head out. "Morgan drove. JJ was there... me and Reid in the back. I was nervous... Reid and I went to the basement together. It was dark, smelled like mothballs and moss... it was full of clown masks. I went back up to turn on the lights and..." I trailed off, the memory becoming blurry. "The bookcase moved..."

Looking at Emily, I shrugged my shoulders. She gave me a torn expression and I felt my heart sink quickly. By the look on her face, I could tell there was so much I was missing. Instead of keeping quiet, Emily stood up to shut the door so nobody could overhear. "The bookcase was the door to the panic room. The Unsub wanted to go out with a bang so he waited until we were far enough away before coming out. You were on the landing and he pushed you down the stairs, locked you and Reid in the basement..."

"Is Reid okay?" I asked quickly, not knowing why I reacted with such fear at hearing that he'd been involved.

Emily nodded. "He's a little banged up but he's fine. The Unsub had you both down there for over two hours. Reid didn't tell us exactly what happened, only that you... were incredibly brave. Very stupid-" Emily's expression sharpened and I tried not to grin too much- "- but if it weren't for your courage, things would have been much worse..."

"He shot me, didn't he?"

Her face darkened. "Yes," she said lowly.

-/-

Emily had only left to call the team with the good news before returning to my side, filling me in on what I couldn't remember. I was grateful that she didn't treat me like I was something delicate. She knew what I could handle and she was careful to never push me beyond my limits.

She told me how Reid had broken out of his ropes when I'd been shot. He dove for cover and the team had burst in; Hotch took down the Unsub, and Reid was holding me, trying to stop me from bleeding. Emily glossed over describing the scene when I went pale, imagining the chaos and the fear they'd all felt.

My team had taken turns to give me a bedside vigil, so I wouldn't be alone when I woke up. I'd never felt closer to each and every one of them.

They filed in that afternoon to see me. Reid was first. He came skidding through the door and froze, eyes wide and on me as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Morgan was a close second, and soon took up residence on Emily's chair, as JJ, Hotch and Rossi filed in one after the other, glancing around the room positioning themselves around me like a guard of honour.

Nobody spoke. I don't think anybody really knew what to say. The fact that they were there was more than enough for me and I broke the silence after minutes of staring at one another. "If one of you don't hug me in the next three seconds, I'll go back to sleep," I grumbled, my grin taking the sting out of the words. Morgan was first, shaking his head as he all but crushed me in his arms.

"Glad you're okay, kid," he whispered, mussing my hair when he pulled back. JJ followed, then Hotch and Rossi and Emily snuck in another hug before they mumbled something about needing coffee and paperwork, and filed out to leave me alone in the room with Reid. He took the only seat in the room, hanging his head.

He still wasn't looking at me as he held out his hand, seeking mine. "Can I?"

"Of course," I said incredulously, and he held my hand gently in his own, as if I would break. "I'm glad you're okay," I mumbled softly, squeezing his hand lightly. He shouldn't feel guilty. He made so many lives that much brighter... guilt had no place in Spencer Reid's life.

He shuffled the chair closer, leaning his elbows on the side of my bed. His gaze dropped to the drip in my other hand, then to the bandages peeking out of the blankets where my top had ridden up. Visibly, he swallowed and forced himself to look at my face again, ignoring the wound. "You saved my life," he whispered. Before I could process what he was doing, he stood up and kissed my forehead gently, squeezing my shoulder as he did so. "Thank you," he whispered against my skin.

My heart raced again. "Spencer, I..." I whispered back, tilting my head to meet his gaze. We were both crying and the words I had planned to say died before I could form them. He didn't need me to verbalise what I was thinking; Reid could profile me as easily as he could recite the numerals of Pi. I didn't need to say a word, because he knew what I wanted to say.

"I know," he said quietly, his eyes on mine. "Me too."

Spencer stayed with me all night, and didn't once let go of my hand.