I can't sleep tonight. I keep thinking of the bruises scattered along his strong face, and the cuts everywhere. And the crimson dripping from his mouth, seeping on the floor and staining his black shirt as he collapsed down to his knees in pain.
I shudder at the thought of him not surviving, clutching my feet to my stomach - making a tight ball - under the navy blue comforter covering me. I squeeze my eyes shut, but no matter how hard I try, I can't sleep.
It's already 3:52 and I can't do anything to help myself sleep. I imagine the bullet sailing through Reid, and then me, killing us both as we press close together. Had the FBI and sh-t not stormed in last second, we'd be dead, with nothing but the feeling of comfort with us.
But that's not how it went. That's not how life goes.
"Spencer..." I mumble to myself before finally drifting off to sleep.
I call in sick to work the next morning, grumbling to my feet in exhaustion and frustration. I needed to see Reid, but I didn't know where he was or if...if...
I shake my head at the thought of him being gone and focus on the fact that he's going to be in the one and only area everyone here goes - the town hospital.
I arrive at the check-in desk fifteen minutes later.
"Is a Spencer Reid here?" I ask the small nurse hurriedly. She looks at me hesitantly before nodding and pointing down the hallway.
"On this floor, fifth door to the right." I thank her quickly and scurry off to see the one I've been thinking of all night. The minute I get to the room, I knock quickly before seeing a chubbier redhead and a blonde girl nearby.
"I'm surprised you're not spilling facts about all your bumps and bruises," I hear from inside the room. Someone else chuckles.
The redhead smiles, but the blonde looks confused and upset. She stands, crosses her arms, and glares at me. I'm hoping she is just here to protect him, but she seems to be overdoing it.
"Uh..." I say sheepishly. The voice of Reid arises first.
"Lucy?" He mumbles, drowsily opening his eyes. His frail appearance shocks me, with all the swelling on his face and monitors on him everywhere. He seems like he hasn't slept in forever by the way he seems hollowed out. And don't forget the dull stare he has now.
He glances to the two girls nearby, then returns to me with a weak smile. "S-sorry about yesterday. Kinda left you on a cliffhanger."
I can only smile and nod. I'm glad he's okay, but just seeing him like this is plucking me apart. Am I seriously thinking all this? I met him a f-cking day ago and I'm already daydreaming about him and getting butterflies.
The redhead is the first to speak up again, breaking the motionless silence. "Oh, you're Lucy! The one who got stuck with him the past few days. I'm Penelope Garcia, and this is Jennifer Jareau, or JJ." She says perkily, smiling gleefully at me.
JJ sits back down, nodding briefly at me. She's obviously been in a tough situation or something before.
Garcia shifts awkwardly for a second, then says, "Well, I think we can trust you to be with him alone for a bit." She tilts her head a bit at JJ, who gives her a confirming nod. They both stand and walk briskly out the door.
I wait for them to shut the door and then move one of the chairs close to Reid's bedside. I let out a heavy sigh, close my eyes, and speak. "Spencer?" I hear him shifting, and open my eyes to see him looking at me with a shy smile.
"Lucy Hayes. Thank you for actually coming" He shuts his eyes for a moment, then opens them again. "I remember seeing you-" He pauses to breathe, "Being dragged in like a limp body. Do you remember how he got you?" He asks weakly.
"Yeah, I think he hit me with something and knocked me out." I answer somewhat nonchalantly, trying to dig into my thoughts.
"Oh. I'm glad he didn't end up keeping you in worse shape than me." He murmurs, probably more to himself than me. I smile, though. He speaks a bit louder now, "He thought you looked like JJ. And you do, just shorter." He puts on the smallest smile possible.
I laugh a tad at the short comment, rolling my eyes playfully. I focus back on him, dropping to seriousness. "How long were you there?" I ask.
"Four days." He shifts his eyes awkwardly and continues, "And he stabbed me the second day." He inhales for a long moment, like breathing is a challenge for him. "Nothing too major, like he knew where he was to strike and where not to. But he did puncture my lung. Hence the blood I coughed up."
I'm silent for a minute, just staring at his battered face and tousled short hair. and let's not get started on those high cheekbones.
"Um," I finally break into the silence, and my crazed trail of thought, "how long will you be here?"
"Another week. Just until they can be sure that my lung is healed."
"Oh." I sit up straight in the chair, dropping my eyes to my hands that are neatly in my lap. I bite the corner of my lower lip, hesitant to say anything else.
"I don't want you out on your own," He speaks up carefully. I raise my head with a puzzled look on my face.
"What do you mean?"
"My number." Reid snatches a piece of paper and scribbles on it with a pen nearby. "I expect a call or text every day." He raised one brow, reaching out to give me the paper. I stand and take it, thanking him briefly.
I go to leave, just to be interrupted by Reid snatching my arm lightly, pulling me back towards him. I furrow my brow, a bit confused by his sudden grasp. I look into his eyes, which show worry and exhaustion.
"Please stay safe," Reid tells me. He pulls me to his side, sits up, and says, "Promise me." And with that, he puts his lips to mine.
