Disclaimer - See Chapter One
Merry
Chapter Three
The sleigh wasn't just big enough to hide behind, it was big enough to hide under. When Reid finally got Hotch behind it he saw that the back was covered in a sheet of green baize which concealed a large, boxy, rectangle of space big enough for Reid to push Hotch into and crawl in next to him.
As he was pulling himself to a sitting position next to his boss Reid felt something give inside of his abdomen and a new flush of warmth spread down his hip and thigh. His tongue grew heavy and thick in his mouth and his skin prickled. Taking a deep breath Reid pressed lightly against his wound. He heard a thick, fluid squelch.
Reid glanced down at Hotch, whose eyes were still closed. He needed to stay awake. He needed to protect Hotch, just as Hotch would protect him or anyone else on the team. He needed to slow the bleeding.
Leaning onto his side he dragged himself back out from behind the green curtain and squinted in the gloom to find something he could use as a makeshift bandage. Half hidden behind one of the shimmering curtains that hung on the back wall of the grotto was a squashy cardboard box. Reid leaned out and grabbed hold of the corner, dragging the box toward him. Tipping it onto its side he rummaged through the contents that had spilled out. He almost laughed when he grabbed the huge red hat trimmed with a thick band of heavy white fur.
'Sorry Santa.' He said to himself, as he wadded up the hat and pressed it against his wound.
The pain that shot through his body almost made him pass out but he didn't ease the pressure, instead he worked on tucking the bundle of thick fabric under the edge of his Kevlar vest and the waistband of his pants. He groaned in frustration as the hat stubbornly refused to stay put.
His hand found the contents of the box again and he felt through the mess until his fingers closed on a string of Christmas lights. It was a short string of about twenty clear plastic gingerbread men that had been coiled up in the box, which Reid now coiled around his hips to hold the Santa hat bandage in place. Once he had the string wrapped around his body a couple of times he crossed and looped the ends to form a knot. He tried to tighten the knot but his left hand was too slippery with blood. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the plug end of the string in his right hand and clamped the other end, terminating in a smiling gingerbread man, between his teeth. He pulled hard and fainted.
Prentiss and Morgan took turns in pacing. They knew where the UnSub was, they had the advantage of fire power and they knew Hotch was hurt. Basic instinct screamed at them both to rush in and get their team members out but luckily they had something stronger than basic instinct. They had Rossi, and Rossi was a patient man when he had to be. He was currently at the front line of the SWAT team about to speak to the UnSub. They knew the tactic he'd take. He would talk to the man, drop hints that he understood and empathised with his compulsion. He'd try to get the UnSub to believe he'd met a kindred spirit.
It was necessary but it sickened both Prentiss and Morgan.
'Sometimes I think it might be better if we just took them down straight away.' Emily muttered.
Morgan raised his eyebrows at her.
'What? Don't tell me you aren't thinking the same thing? Hotch and Reid could both be badly injured, or worse, and we're sitting here waiting for Rossi to try to talk this guy down? It's all wrong Morgan, all wrong.' Emily sighed.
'And if we storm in there and he has Hotch or Reid as a shield? What then?' Morgan asked.
Emily rolled her eyes. 'I never said it was a plan, just what I'd like to do.' She said.
Morgan shot her a sympathetic look. 'I hear you. Believe me, I hear you.' He said.
Reid woke up to the sound of faint groaning. He was laid on his side and something was digging into his left hip painfully. Pushing himself up he found the ends of the string of lights draped over his lap. His final pull had succeeded in holding the Santa hat bandage in place as the plastic Gingerbread men had snagged and twisted together to form an effective belt. Reid closed his eyes briefly as his stomach lurched and dropped and his breath came in short pants. Blindly he groped for the ends of the string and knotted them together again, loosely looping the cord around the plug five or six times. He didn't want everything to work free. He didn't want to have to replace his bandage and repeat the procedure. Ever.
When he had gained control of his breathing he shifted until he had pushed his way back under the green curtain. Hotch's eyes were finally open and he was rubbing his temple. He groaned again.
Reid waved his hand in front of his mouth.
'You need to be quiet. He's still out there.' Reid whispered.
'Reid? What are you doing here?' Hotch said, frowning.
Reid's face broke into a brief, relief filled smile. Hotch recognised him. He felt the tension in his muscles relax slightly. 'We're at Greys. Do you remember? The UnSub hit you, you have a concussion, I'd say a Grade 3 if we go by the Cantu guidelines although the Colorado Medical Society would say ...'
Hotch put his hand on Reid's arm and squeezed. 'My head is killing me.' He whispered as he blinked a couple of times.
'I know it is but we just need to stay here until the rest of the team find the UnSub and SWAT clear the area. I thought staying here would give us optimal odds of survival. Should we try to move? I'm just not sure if I ...'
Reid was stopped mid sentence by the very unnerving sight of Aaron Hotchner smiling widely at him.
'You don't have to go. It's Christmas Eve, my mom will let you stay for dinner.' Hotch whispered.
Reid slumped despondently against the hardwood interior of the sleigh and assessed the situation. He had lost his gun and the UnSub had Hotch's gun. His mic had been ripped off him and a brief feel at Hotch's collar told him that his had been removed too. He was bleeding and scared and he couldn't reach the rest of the team and Hotch, his stalwart, unshakable boss, the teams protector, thought he was a little kid at home with his mom.
Reid took a breath and swallowed down the urge to cry.
Carter Lowell was sweating profusely by the time he had finished his barricade of shelving, dollies, toy trains and spacemen. It wasn't the most effective barricade he'd ever made. The most effective was the one he'd built out of bricks and mortar when he was hiding his grandfather's body in the basement of his house when he was eighteen. He'd made a good job of it and even now he felt a thrill of pride when he thought about the workmanship he'd put into it. Even now he marvelled at how the cold of the earth and a double row of brickwork could mask the smell of rotting flesh.
