"Get a medic in here!"

The voice seemed so loud and so distant at the same time. In the last few moments, Reid knew his body had gone into shock from being shot. He had dimly registered that Merryl was on the floor in front of him through the burning pain in his chest, and that same burning was only made worse by the hands that were suddenly on his shoulders, dragging him upward toward the ceiling.

Or was it the floor…?

Things were spinning to badly for Reid to make any sense of what direction he was falling… His eyelids felt extremely heavy, and kept slipping down over eyes that had started to gloss over, but then the voice that had yelled before was above him, yelling angrily at him, sobbing hysterically. Was it Scott? It couldn't be; Scott didn't even know him, and he was tied up to the coffee table. Then there were more voices… What were they saying…? Straining his ears, Reid tried to force the words spoken to him through the large mind that was already starting to enter sleep mode. Something about… his eyes…

"Reid, open your eyes, Reid! Come on, look at me…!"

But no matter how much Morgan continued to pat his cheek, no matter how loudly he yelled at the young man laying underneath him, Reid's eyes continued to stay closed. His breathing had already started to slow, a pool of blood already beneath Reid's body despite Hotch's efforts to stem the blood flow by pressing his black overcoat to the wound. Letting out a quick string of curses, Morgan looked up to the doorway, yelling as loud as his already hoarse voice would let him,

"Where the hell are the EMT's?!"

Prentiss swallowed, her head turned away from Reid but her slender frame shaking from the thought of losing someone who had, in such a short time, become like family to her. She then said to Morgan, her voice barely audible,

"They're getting the stretcher out right now…"

With another loud string of curses, Morgan went back to trying to get Reid to open his eyes, to talk, to twitch; anything that would give them some sign that their youngest was still among the living. Gideon was trying not to lose it, standing against the wall, his eyes surveying the scene even though it had to be committed to memory by now. J.J. was bent down by Scott, untying him from the table leg, trying to keep her eyes averted from Reid's prone form as well.

Although it was only a few seconds later, it felt like an eternity to the rest of the unit before the EMT's finally entered the room, and then there were soft requests for Morgan and Hotch to move out of the way. And while Hotch quickly stood up and moved backward, knowing he'd done all he could, it was Morgan who refused to leave Reid's side; Morgan who refused to give up trying to wake the younger man up until Gideon finally came over and pulled him up and out of the way.

A few minutes later, Reid was rushed out of the apartment, and another for Merryl. But none of the BAU agents stayed to watch her rolled out of the apartment on a stretcher; they had already filled into the SUV again, lights and siren turned on, heading for the hospital. Heading for Reid.

* * *

Things were flashing from so bright that he couldn't see anything, to so dark seeing was impossible… Reid was floating, or at least it felt like he was. He dimly became aware that there was something hooked up to his face, but when he tried to lift his arms, he found that his entire body had become unresponsive. In fact, his body was burning with a pain that was almost unbearable, making him want to scream, but of course, that action was past his ability as well. And then there were more voices around him, but this time he couldn't make out the words. His head was just too fuzzy; he couldn't concentrate…

With a soft sigh, Reid felt him slip back into a painless oblivion.

* * *

They had each been taking turns sitting in with him. Normally, it was supposed to only be family members who were able to visit people in Reid's wavering condition, but since the agents were part of the FBI, the hospital had made and exception. During surgery, they had been able to remove the bullet, which had almost torn through his back, but had been slowed to the point it couldn't exit by a rib bone. Which at the very least meant Reid had not only lost a lot of blood, but his rib was broken. And to add even more worry, the shot had been only a few inches away from where Reid's heart was.

Morgan took a deep breath, his head in his hands as he sat by Reid's beside, just like he had been for the past three hours. He should have fired sooner, Morgan thought, recalling those last few moments that had haunted him so for the past 18 hours.

* * *

"FBI, don't move!"

Morgan had busted the door down with his foot like always, but had proceeded Hotch and the others into the apartment, only to find Merryl pointing a gun and Reid.

Helpless… young… Reid.

"Drop the fucking gun!" he yelled again, anger and fear evident in his rising voice, even as he kept his own firearm steadily raised and aimed at Merryl's back.

He only barely registered that the other BAU agents had filed into the apartment as well, or that they, too, were shouting at Merryl to drop the weapon. Morgan only had ears for Merryl's last words, said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"The price of information is high, agents. Nothing in this world… is ever, ever free."

Quickly squeezing the trigger on his gun, Morgan flinched terribly when he heard the report of not only his own gun, but Merryl's as well. He felt no comfort in the fact that Merryl emitted a sharp cry and fell to her side, dropping the gun; he felt no comfort in seeing blood welling up on the lower back of her shirt. His eyes were instead riveted on the blood welling on Reid's plaid shirt. It looked so close to the middle of his chest; his heart…

And then Morgan's gun clattered to the ground as he rushed to Reid's side, only slightly aware of Hotch beside him, taking off his black overcoat in a hurry, no doubt ready to use it to press against the wound and stem the blood…

Too much blood…

* * *

Shuddering again, Morgan continued to think of what had happened after that. Reid's bag had been left when the EMT's had rushed his still bleeding body out on the stretcher. Rifling through it, trying to make sure everything was still there, Prentiss had found a small tape recorder; it had still been on record. They'd shut it off and played the recording back, listening in shocked horror as all the evidence they needed was recorded. They had also sent out a team of chemical specialists to the Clarksville County Courthouse to remove the Sarin that Merryl had confessed to planting there. No one had been harmed; thankfully.

Sighing, Morgan lifted his head when a hand came down on his shoulder, only to find Gideon standing above him. Gideon's old but wise eyes were watching Morgan sadly as he said softly,

"It wasn't your fault, Morgan."

Shaking his head, Morgan had opened his mouth to deny the supposed fact he held no blame for what happened to Reid when a short, clipped groan came from the bed before them, and both heads snapped up. Reid was waking up…!

* * *

About a day later, Reid was about as fully coherent as he could have been after just being shot; asking people to repeat things and craving coffee and jell-o. Of course, the agents now crowded around his bed never missed a chance to tease him about it, but at this point, Reid didn't really care. He'd obviously been given another shot at living and he'd be damned if he would throw the rest of the time he had left with the only family he had by letting whatever emotions had been eating at him this past week continue to bog him down.

The conversation around Reid continued, despite his thoughts.

"Even though it was extremely foolish of you, Reid, for going in without calling any backup, it was amazingly smart of you to bring a tape recorder and to turn it on before anything happened. You're just lucky Garcia found your call odd." Hotch said slowly, his voice stern but his eyes belying the relief he was unable to hide at having his youngest agent back in safe hands.

"Promise me you'll never to a thing like that again, Spence…" J.J. said softly, leaning by his bed and clasping his left hand faithfully.

Croaking out a small,

"I promise…" the conversation turned to lighter subjects, the UnSub having been caught and two lives saved as a result.

But unbeknownst to the rest of the team, Reid's promise had been two sided. Not only had he promised them that he'd never rush into a situation with an armed UnSub with only a tape recorder and a gun of his own, he'd also promised himself he'd never take for granted the way the team treated him again. At least, not if he could help it.

In fact… Reid found himself suddenly wanting to sit down with Morgan, a crossword puzzle in front of the both of them.

* * *

"The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering."

- Ben Okri

* * *

END

A/N : Alright! I'm finished with this story, but I'm still concerned that my endings are very lame. Also, do tell me if this particular chapter was too hard to follow and I'll try and rewrite it when I can focus more. =/ BUT that's beside the point. Please review, and do look into my new story, A State Of Anger, which is the sequel to A State Of Mind, and have a good day!!

Also, big thanks to paper. creations, Sandy Toehs, martina, mykidmom, hatochiisai, DJSteele, HOmUncLUsLuVR123, ilovemiax, and angeleyes46 for your wonderful reviews!! Such a big help all of you have been!!