"You little bitch," he growled, the gun shaking in his hand. Eyes glinting dangerously with the light of anger. Anya was frozen in place, too frightened to move to wake Reid.
"Not gonna say anything?" he continued, his expression manic. Sweat dripped from his jaw bone.
She felt a movement then, and in moments Reid's hands were braced out in defense.
"Aiden, drop the gun."
A panicked laugh escaped his mouth, filling the silent room, Anya was beginning to feel nauseated. "That's it?!"
"This is what you ran to?!" he shouted. A tear fell from her eye from strain.
Reid leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands still braced upwards. "Aiden, come on, you don't wanna hurt her, do you?"
"Don't try that, she ran from me. I trusted her," he scowled, sweat mingling with tears.
...
He glanced over to his phone, still positioned on the desk, as it began to ring. It flashed and turned on its own, doing a half circle in the otherwise tense silence, before it went to voice-mail.
"If I don't answer that, there's going to be a lot of other people on their way, more armed and less scared than you," he warned, his eyes flitting from the kid in front of him and the cell. The gun stayed on Anya, unyielding.
"Ai-Aiden," the small voice whimpered, and the gun rose as she did, positioning herself a short distance from Reid.
"Don't move," he threatened, his voice as shaky as before, if not worse.
The cell rang again, and Aiden shot his head round to look. "Who is it?!"
"Those people he was talking about, Ade. They'll be here, and they're professionals. I don't want you to get-"
"No! That won't work," he laughed mechanically, the gun pointed at Reid in a frantic gesture.
"You said you wanted more freedom with me, and this is what happens..." he wept pathetically, the gun locked in place and that betrayal in his naked hazel eyes. Almost as quickly, he recovered, and she was reminded of a psychopathic villain you see only in movies.
"They won't have anyone to save," his quiet voice said, dangerously low. The phone rang again, and he stormed over to shoot it, blasting a hole through the table. Then he spun on the spot, and...
BANG.
...
A short, glorious delay, followed by blinding pain. Instinctively a hand shot to the wounded area, and hot blood seeped through the side of his neck. A scream broke into the ringing in his ears, but he could barely place a name to the terrible sound, one he wanted to stop. One that should be laughter...
His limp body collapsed, but his senses had disappeared before he could feel the landing.
...
The room seemed to shake, her world trembled. She couldn't move, but she knew she would start running soon, she had too.
"I ne-ed...to..." she sounded out breathlessly, and soon she was racing into the kitchen, leaving a stunned Aiden to stare at his hand in fright, still outstretched before him. She returned with a towel she had used on her hair, just about dry, and pressed it to his neck.
"If he dies..."
Aiden was oblivious to her words, but the sound caught him off guard, and he jumped, terror on his face. The face she would hate for as long as it had blood pumping behind it. Every look she threw his way told him that.
"Wha-...what..." he whispered, and it sounded like shouting in the deafening silence. Her fear was snatched away from him, and morphed its self into a few short snippets of thought.
Please...don't die...Spencer.
A knocking sounded, and her heart jumped in its cavity. She looked up from the sofa, her hand braced on the towel, secured.
Another knock, followed by a muffled voice call, "Reid? Open up."
Thank God, she breathed internally, not hearing a sound from the man frozen behind her. It seemed he was too terrified to even breath properly.
"Quick!" she called out with a desperate cry, and the door busted open with ease.
Something tugged her away behind her neck, and her hand was torn from Spencer. Her eyes flitted round desperately, panicked and not knowing what was happening, and she caught the sight of a discarded gun on the floor. Her back was slammed against a chest securely as several people poured in, guns pointed at them.
Relief ran through her when a woman, Prentiss, rushed to Reid's aid.
"Hotch," her small voice called, a frightened tear running down her red cheek. Fear exploded in her chest.
A tall, black haired man she didn't recognize looked back behind his weapon, trained on the man behind her, but only for a second.
"Aiden, let her go," his cold voice ordered, but the hand only tightened. With the increased pressure, something sharp poked into her lower back. He didn't say a word, and his arm was trembling with it's intense strain.
"Hotch!" Morgan called behind, his eyebrows low and his wide eyes frightened as his eyes switched from them to the younger man on the sofa, barely breathing.
"They're on their way," he snapped, not bothering to look back. "Aiden, this can only end one of two ways; you let her go, we don't shoot you...You can work the other one out yourself-"
"Aiden, please," Anya cried, tearing at the skin on his forearm, but he was locked, like a robot. Her tears ran from her terrified, wide eyes, flitting around frantically, but always finding Reid. She was sure his bloodied chest wasn't moving anymore.
"REI-"
A sharp object sent a pain through her, and it spread like wild fire. Her words caught with a choke.
Distantly, she heard a gun shot as she fell to the floor, figures becoming blurred at they entered her peripheral vision.