The Graffiti Artist

by Servant of Fire

The youngest member of the BAU sacrificed his life for his friends. He wasn't supposed to turn up four years later in the desert, alive, and fighting crime in a way that is entirely beyond what they remember. Who is Spencer Reid today? How do you welcome a best friend back from the dead, or fix the broken wings of someone you thought you knew, that you knew you loved?

22. Chapter 22

"I've got you. I've got you. Get behind me!"

Spencer had spent so much time saving Derek and the others that it struck him as the harshest form of irony when he came swaggering into the smoke, hatchet in tow. He pushed Spencer and J-J in one protective sweep behind his back.

"Oh, it's you. How amusing." The Lone Wolf spoke from somewhere. It felt like the floor, the wall, and everywhere at once.

"Come out and face me, you son of a bitch! It ends tonight!" Derek shouted so loud his voice echoed off the old bell that now loomed exposed in the roof.

"It ends when I say it ends. I like to watch you dance." The Lone Wolf stepped out from behind where the crucifix had been, painted shock white in some kind of flame retardant. He grinned, ghost-like and ominous. Morgan threw his hatchet at him. He caught it, one handed. Spencer crawled backward on the floor, pressing J-J to his chest and holding her there so she wouldn't look up and see him. Was he hallucinating, or was this guy actually a demon?

"One day it's coming, Agent Morgan. One day I will take my prize. He practically sold his soul to me, you know. Me, the one monster you could never kill. I will drag him to hell with me in the end..."The Lone Wolf grinned. Derek pulled his gun out of his belt. He shot the Lone Wolf in the chest. A bulletproof vest caught it and blew him into the wall. Growling, he stood up, holding the nonfatal wound he'd sustained, eyes darting for the exits. Fire billowed from the way he'd come.

"Yeah, is that it?, You ain't doing it tonight, you freak!"

The unsub managed to shimmy into the shadows. Spencer stared after him.

"Morgan, he's bleeding..."J-J's hysteric voice could be heard. Morgan reached and scooped them both up. Spencer felt his ears ringing. He was hauled outside into the searing press of flash flood rain.

The wind howled. Derek knelt down. He took a fistful of Spencer's hair and turned him to look him in the eyes. Deadlocked, deathly serious.

"Look at me. He's not taking you nowhere. You are not allowed to die, you understand? It just ain't happening, man!" Derek growled as he coughed, as tears from smoke rolled down his eyes.

J-J's coughing and reaching for him was the last thing Spencer was conscious of before he blacked out.