Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Criminal Minds or its characters.
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Reid slowly began to become aware of himself again sometime later. Or better put, he became aware of his shoulder. It was still wracking with pain, and the pain seemed to somehow radiate throughout his entire body. He wasn't quite sure how this could be possible. Maybe I'm just delirious from the blood loss.
He tried to move, but any movement seemed to send more waves of pain throughout his body, so he opted to just lie still. He could hear his father's movements not far from where he lay. He thought about just keeping his eyes closed and pretend to still be unconscious, but he was sure his father had noticed him starting to stir awake, so he gave in and opened his eyes slowly.
He saw the blurry figure of his father standing a few feet away from him, and he blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurriness away. Judging by light now coming through the window, Reid figured he must have been out for quite awhile.
He looked back towards his father, who was just standing there watching him. It sent a chill down his spine, not because he was being stared at, which usually made him quite uncomfortable, but because his father was watching him slowly die. And he was enjoying every minute of it.
Reid watched his father's face as he stared down at him. He was relishing this. A little too much. This probably wasn't only about what his accusation had caused to happen. Reid was sure all that happened to his father this past year wasn't all caused by his accusation of murder anyway. His father just wanted someone to blame. And I'm the perfect one.
His father probably blamed him for other things too, maybe not consciously though. Right now he was taking all of his hatred out on him. Anything bad that has happened in his life was probably surfing in his father's mind as he watched him, and the blame for those things was being passed straight onto Reid.
Reid noticed a gradual change in his father's expression. The look of enjoyment had changed to a look of slight boredom. That only meant one of two things. He was either going to kill him now or put him through more pain. Sadly, Reid hoped for the latter.
His father turned away from him and walked towards the kitchen. If there was a chance to try something, Reid knew it would be now, but he felt like he couldn't move. He wouldn't have had enough time to do anything anyways, he realized, because his father was already coming back towards him.
As he approached, Reid saw a glint of silver in his hand. Apparently, the gun isn't working for him anymore. He had grabbed a knife from Reid's kitchen drawer.
Without a word, his father came up to him, hardly even looked at him, and plunged the knife into Reid's left thigh.
The pain in his shoulder was suddenly forgotten as the newfound pain in his leg gained all of his attention. He found that he could, in fact, move, as his body reacted to the new pain. He shot forward, and his hands automatically reached for his leg. He rolled to his side as he clenched his hands around his thigh. He couldn't really do anything since the knife was still lodged deep into his thigh.
He lay on his side, panting as the jolts of pain shot through him. He realized that, once again, he was on the verge of passing out. He should try to stay awake, he knew, but he didn't seem to have any control anymore. His body quickly gave into itself, welcoming the darkness.