AN: I want to thank everyone for your reviews. I never thought of this story as a deathfic since Spencer was still around. Besides making me consider the classification of my story, several readers gave me other things to think about. I decided to continue with this story. I hope I've addressed some of the plotholes in this chapter.

Chapter 2

That night, Hotch dreamed about Reid's death.

They had tracked an unsub to an isolated barn off a dirt road. After a messy divorce, the killer would kidnap surrogates for his ex-wife and torture them in the barn before shooting them through the heart. They discovered his identity after he'd finally gone after the object of his rage—his ex-wife.

The team had the unsub surrounded but he kept his gun pressed against his ex-wife's back. Hotch tried to empathize with the man, explaining how Haley had left him years ago. He tried to relate to the pain and heartbreak that came with divorce. When that didn't work, they moved to plan B. Reid started spouting off statistics about divorce. He tried to show the man that divorce was nothing to be ashamed of, that hundreds of thousands of people got divorced every year. Rather than comfort the unsub, he became enraged. Hotch realized their mistake seconds too late. He watched the gun appear around the side of the victim and point right at Reid. Less than a moment later, two shots echoed through the barn. The unsub fired at the same time Hotch pulled the trigger on his weapon. Hotch's bullet went through the victim and into the unsub. The unsub's bullet struck Reid in the shoulder, just missing the strap of his vest.

Hotch ran to Reid's collapsed body while the rest of the team ran to help the victim and subdue the unsub. He could hear them calling for ambulances and coroners. He didn't know which was for Reid. The young genius was breathing hard and gritting his teeth in pain. Hotch began undoing the straps on the vest, but loosening the pressure only made the gunshot wound bleed harder. He placed his hand over the bullet hole, feeling warm blood gushing out of Reid's body. It was too much blood. The bullet had hit something vital.

Morgan was yelling something. JJ was crying. Rossi and Prentiss were running out the barn doors. Hotch stayed by Reid's side. He stared into Reid's glazed eyes, listened to his breathing slow, felt his heart pump blood out of the hole in his body.

"Don't leave us, Reid," Hotch whispered. "This team needs you. You have to hold on. You have to stay."

Hotch had no idea the impact of his final words to his dying teammate.

It took nearly twenty minutes before the ambulances could reach them. EMTs worked around Hotch until they had Reid stabilized enough for Hotch to remove his hand from the wound. He got out of the way fast after that, letting the medical experts work. Only then did he see the rest of the destruction in the barn.

The unsub was dead. Hotch's bullet had gone through the ex-wife and struck the unsub in the chest, hitting his heart. His wife would survive being shot. More emergency medical personnel were working on her wound. She was hit in nearly the same place as Reid, but her wound had not damaged the same vital artery that was so detrimental to Reid. Hotch thought about the difference centimeters could make.

Between the ambulance ride and the hospital, the world soon became a blur. Later, Hotch found himself in a hospital bathroom scrubbing Reid's blood off his hands. He thought he was alone in the bathroom but sensed a presence behind him. He glanced into the mirror but saw no one. Hotch shut off the water and checked the stalls. They were all empty.

Upon rejoining his team in the waiting room, a nurse informed them that Reid was in surgery. It didn't look good. The bullet had severed his subclavian artery. Surgeons were doing their best to repair the damage, but Reid had lost a lot of blood.

The nurse then took Hotch aside and asked if he had any clean clothes. Hotch realized that Reid's blood covered sleeves and his knees from where he'd knelt in it. Hotch's go-bag was at the hotel. It wasn't far away, but Hotch was reluctant to leave the hospital. He understood that his gruesome appearance was making other hospital patrons feel uncomfortable. After making his team promise to call him with any news, Hotch left.

Alone in his hotel room, Hotch felt the full weight of the situation. He'd shot a woman and killed an unsub. That alone was traumatizing, even for a seasoned agent like Aaron Hotchner. But seeing Reid go down was too much. Hotch felt responsible. He'd failed at talking the unsub down, leaving Reid to put himself in danger. If only Hotch had succeeded.

"It wasn't your fault," said a quiet voice.

Hotch spun around and stared. Reid sat in a dark corner of the room. He was still covered in blood, still pale and disheveled.

"Reid?"

He couldn't be here. He was in surgery at the hospital. He was fighting for his life. How could he be here?

"You wanted me to stay, Aaron. Here I am."

"How?"

Reid smiled. "I can't answer that right now. Let's just say that today's events were unexpected. I've been given more time."

"You aren't dead?"

"No, I'm dead. The doctor is going to tell the team any minute now that I died on the operating table. You need to get to them first. Don't let the team know the truth."

Hotch's mind couldn't seem to comprehend the words. He could only stare at Reid. His appearance was the only evidence that the boy was telling the truth. No one could be covered in that much blood and still be alive.

Reid slowly stood up and moved toward Hotch. He was soon close enough to touch him, but he kept his hands firmly at his sides.

"Aaron, listen to me. The team cannot know that I died. This secret must remain between you and me. You have to stop the doctor from announcing my death. It's the only way I can stay."

Hotch found himself nodding. "What do I tell them."

"Talk to the doctor. Tell him that you want to be the one to break the news to the team. Then tell the team that I survived but not without complications."

"Complications?"

"I may experience behavioral changes. The loss of blood caused damage to my brain. I'll suffer from frequent migraines. Bright lights will hurt my eyes." He glanced down at his bloodstained shirt. "Staying in shadows will hide the truth."

"Spencer, you…you're dead. Do you really think you can hide that from seasoned profilers?"

Reid shrugged. "You're the only one who knows I'm dead. You're the only one that will see me as dead. The signs won't be obvious to the others unless they realize the truth."

"Is this really going to work? Keeping you here? Keeping you on the team?"

Reid's answer was the last thing Hotch heard before the dream ended and he woke up.

"I'm doing what you asked, Aaron. I'm staying."