Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds
A/N: Ahhhh, my life is crazy busy. Sorry I'm doing this so slow…I have a lot of research papers to write…Also…kind of morbid chapter. Don't read if it will upset you.
Hotch didn't even realize he was running until he heard the gun shot.
Officer Kent was somewhere behind him, after having told him he'd lost Reid. He hadn't even chastised him, hadn't yelled at him for losing Reid, possibly letting him get murdered. It didn't matter, for Hotch, the anger didn't even register. He was down the stairs and going around the side of the apartment before he could think. The two cops that had been investigating the outside of the building were already gone, Kent had probably already told them what had happened. As Hotch entered the alley Kent had said they had been investigating, Hotch heard someone shouting, put down the gun, but the sound didn't even register. But what did register was the next sound, seconds later, the sound of a bullet slicing through the air, an echoing, cracking sound. Hotch felt he hear the dull, wet sound of flesh being ripped, exploding as the bullet hit. He felt as if he would vomit.
Hotch was half-way down the alley when he heard one of the police officers calling an ambulance. He couldn't hear the actual words, but he knew that was what the officer was talking about. One officer moved past him, and Hotch had to skid to a stop, turning around to stare as the officer led Shawn away. There was blood, on his hand, upper arm, splattered on his chest, little droplets seeming to sparkle, glitter-like on his neck, an almost imperceptible amount shining on his face. Hotch turned back around and started running again, a new sort of panic filling him.
As Hotch made it to the end of the alley, he turned to face the scene, and stopped. He could hear Kent and the others behind him, some helping to take Shawn to the cop car. There was an officer on the ground, blood on his shirt. But where was Reid…
The world swam, turned grey, and then someone was pulling him away. He hadn't even realized he had started to walk towards the scene. Someone was pulling him back down the alley, turning him around, and the sound of an ambulance cut through the air, and Hotch was stunned at how nauseating the sound was, it had never bothered him so much before. The ambulance came to a stop hap hazardously in the street, and several EMTs and a stretcher poured out.
The EMTs rushed back past him in what seemed like only seconds, hurrying back into the ambulance, bringing Hotch to the awareness that some of the police officers were staring at him as he stood uselessly on the side walk, frozen as the flurry of activity passed around him. The ambulance was already taking off, the EMTs not even waiting for anyone to climb in, completely set on their almost futile task. Hotch felt his body start to unfreeze, but before he could begin walking, and shaky hand fell on his shoulder. He turned to see the police officer he'd seen kneeling on the ground, blood on his hands, staining his shirt. He looked stunned, confused even, and unaware that he was getting blood on Hotch's jacket. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, Hotch pulled away, making a mad dash for his car. He had already lost time, and couldn't see the flashing red lights, but he'd caught the name of the hospital on the side of the ambulance. He used whatever rational thought he had left to pull out his cell phone and punch speed dial two, pressing the phone to his ear as he sped through traffic.
"Hello? Hotch? Is everything okay?" asked Garcia, still sounding as perky as she had the last time he'd spoken to her, less than an hour ago.
Less than an hour ago, Reid had been sleeping next to him, peaceful and serene looking as he curled against Hotch's side.
Fight back a wave of nausea, Hotch swallowed, and forced his voice to stay steady, but firm as he answered, "Garcia, Reid's been shot. I'm on my way to the hospital now. Call the others, I'll let you know more when I know more." He didn't wait for the rush of emotions and questions that were sure to come from Garcia's side of the line before he snapped his phone shut. He needed to focus on driving, and already his head was becoming cloudy with the thoughts and emotions that he was so desperately trying to suppress. However, the image of the police officer kneeling over Reid's unresponsive body as he tried to stop Reid's bleeding took over his mind, and he had to pull over, throwing his door open and losing the contents of his stomach. A horn blared as the car that had been behind him swerved to avoid hitting his door, and Hotch shut his door, closing his eyes, and simply focusing on his breathing until he felt centered enough to drive.
Once inside the building, Hotch went straight for the front desk. The nurse looked up, didn't smile. She knew who he was, at this point. His son had been born here, five years ago, followed by a series of visits whenever Jack got sick over the years, his own various medical mishaps had also brought him here, and then he'd been a frequent visitor during Reid's recovery from anthrax. Her eyes flickered towards the hallway at the right.
"He's in the operating room. There's coffee if you'd like, here in the waiting room, Mr. Hotchner." She sounded apologetic, sympathetic even. She might have seen the EMTs bring Reid in. She probably had an idea of how bad his chances were. But at least he was still alive, if she was telling him to stay in the waiting room. It meant there was something to wait for. Recovery, death. Hotch didn't feel like he could wait, but knew there was nothing he could do, so he slumped into one of the hard-cushioned chairs and began to wait.
A/N: Ta-da! Here is a shiny new chapter for you, hope you like it. Please read and review! I will try to get the next chapter up soon, but…don't hold your breath kids.