Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Criminal Minds or its characters.
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Reid felt a blinding pain in his right shoulder as the bullet ripped through him. He felt like he was about to pass out, but forced himself to stay conscious. White lights danced before his eyes, and as he blinked them away, he realized he was lying on the floor. He didn't really remember falling to the floor. He had been too concentrated on the pain in his shoulder and the fact that his father just shot him, with his own gun.
He rolled onto his right side and reached his left hand to his shoulder to try to slow the bleeding, but it didn't help very much. He wasn't sure if the bullet had gone completely through or if it had lodged in his shoulder. He tried taking a few slow, deep breaths to ease through the pain, but that didn't seem to help much either.
"Hurts, doesn't it?"
Reid could only watch as his father approached him, gun still in hand. He winced as his father pushed him onto his back.
"W-why didn't you just kill me?" Reid asked, finally finding his voice, though he was sure he already knew the answer.
"I've suffered for the past year because of you. I would only think it fair you should suffer for at least a little while before I do kill you."
Great. He couldn't just kill him and get it over with. Haven't you already made me suffer enough in my life? Reid thought about making this point to his father. He practically had to raise himself and take care of his schizophrenic mother all by himself because he had left them. He decided against saying this to his father. He knew it wouldn't help. In fact, it would probably only make his situation worse.
He thought of the possibility that maybe one of his neighbors heard the gunshot and called the police. They're all asleep. If the shot woke them up, they'll probably think they just imagined it and go right back to bed.
There was only one good thing about his father wanting him to suffer. It gave him more time to think of ways he could possibly get out of this alive. Reid wondered how long his father was planning on making him suffer. If it was long enough, he would be late for work. He was never late for work, so his team would start worrying about him. They would keep calling him and hopefully, eventually come to his apartment to check on him. But that was still a few hours away.
Reid was beginning to feel a little dizzy. The pain was still pulsing in his shoulder, which was still bleeding, but it seemed like the bleeding had slowed some. He wasn't losing enough blood for it to become fatal any time soon, but it was enough to make him feel lightheaded. And this was exactly what his father wanted. His father was going to sit here and watch him slowly bleed to death.
The voice of his father brought Reid out of his thoughts.
"You don't seem to be in enough pain," he said coldly.
Reid couldn't suppress a loud groan of pain as the gun was pressed hard into his gunshot wound. The white lights started dancing in front of his eyes again. This time he couldn't force himself stay conscious. The pain in his shoulder was multiplied many times over as his father pressed the gun even deeper into the wound, and the white lights turned to black as he passed out.