A/N: Hello, everyone!
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. No copyright infringement intended.
Get ready for one of the most memorable CM finales, which will be in two parts.
Previously on Criminal Minds….
"I got an invitation to attend the International Women in Power Conference…in Reykjavík, Iceland in May…"
"I'm so exhausted…and I haven't even left for Iceland."
"You'll be fine..."
"Hey, babe. […]. If you're still having those feelings about the deputies during the case or anything about the case, please be careful...I love you."
BANG!
"SHOTS FIRED! SHOT FIRED!"
BANG-BANG!
BANG-BANG-BANG!
"BLAKE!"
BANG-BANG-BANG!
BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!
BANG!
"REID!"
"GOGOGOGOGOGOGO!"
BANGBANGBANGBANG!
BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!
"UGGH…"
Another memorable time of meeting and chatting with strong women; Élise almost didn't want this conference to end. The women she met were very influential and powerful in their own ways. But at the same time—and speaking of time, it was nearly one in the morning, and Élise couldn't wait to get into bed.
The yoctosecond she strolled into her suite, she started taking off her clothes while walking towards the bathroom and took a quick second. After wiping off her makeup and brushing her teeth, she slipped into her pink silk pajamas and slinked under the duvets. Élise saw the text message she got from Spencer and smiled as she allowed her mind to fall into a gentle slumber.
Spencer…
While this wasn't the first time he was shot at, this was the first time he was shot in the neck. He felt the blood that came on his now-stained hands. However, he knew. Realistically, there was "no safe place" to shoot someone, not even if one was shot in the arm or leg—he—and Élise, unfortunately—knew from that personal experience. There were the muscles, the vessels, the delicate nerves, and the arteries.
The sounds from the gunfire and fragments of glass from the police car windshields rang in his head…
Wait…his vision was hazily, but he swore…there was a Caucasian man in his early thirties walking by. How could someone like him walk by and…
"We need a medic now!" Blake picked up his head, "There's too much blood!"
Her voice waved distantly back and forth. He remembered. After Coleman was shot twice in the chest, there came a massive shootout between the preacher and them. Blake tried to drag Coleman to safety, but at the risk of being hit by gunfire, Spencer pushed her out of the way, resulting in him getting shot and Morgan having to drag him behind the car for safety.
"No-no-no. Ethan? Ethan! Open your eyes…" Blake begged him to keep his eyes open. But why did she…?
BANG!
"Whoa!" Élise shot herself up from the bed, and that dark figure came suddenly came out of nowhere and was gone. To firmly make sure of that, she turned on the nightstand light. While looking around her suite, she inhaled and exhaled deep shallow breaths and felt sweat all over her face, wrangled her neck, and clutched her chest. She saw her bottled water, snatched it, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down the last few sips.
"Ah…" she felt refreshed, but there was just something that loomed in her mind. She knew there's often a meaning to dreams and nightmares and how they're always trying to tell her something, but now she's wondering what it could be…
The light above him in the ambulance hither and thither, the sound of the sirens…
"The sound is like a teakettle." Spencer slurred his words and was completely delirious. "Do you hear it?"
He tried to keep his eyes open but couldn't retain control over them, and they closed against his will. Now, he'll wonder if he'll ever wake up ever again.
Élise managed to get some sleep, despite the nightmare she had a few hours ago. When she looked at the alarm clock, it was seven in the morning. It was still late back home, but she knew Spencer wouldn't mind if she gave him a call. She rang his number and waited for him to answer but instead got his voicemail.
"This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I can't take your call right now, but please leave me a detailed message. Thank you."
BEEP!
Élise cleared her throat. "Hey, babe. Uh, just called to see how you're doing…how, uh…is the case?" she laughed nervously. "I can tell you're busy, so…give me a callback? I love you."
After hanging up, she wanted to cry—she got a tear out. Instead, she mustered herself up and wiped her tear away. Maybe a nice treat to the gym and then a spa treatment—or two—will make her feel better.
"Spencer…"
"Huh…?" before he knew it, he was a floating animation of color surrounded in a dark place, and he heard Élise's pleading voice in the air. "What the...?"
"Please fight, Spence…"
"Lise…"
What soon came before he was images and videos from the moment he met Élise. "We need you, Spence…Fight to stay alive…Please…"
"We need you…"
Now he heard Séraphine's girly voice and saw her. "Fee…"
"Dad..."
"Wha...?"
"Daddy…"
"Ziggy…" Isaac's…
"Spencer…" His mother's gentle voice and some of the best moments he had with her, even as a child. "Spencer…"
"Mom…"
"We need you…"
"Hang in there…"
"Dad…"
"We need you…"
"I need you."
Blake felt shaken up by Spencer, especially after watching him go into the ambulance with Morgan. She rode with JJ in the backseat—complete silence other than the occasion if she-was-alright question from JJ—and one of the deputies on the way to the hospital. Though she had just washed her coated-with-Spencer's-blood hands, she felt as if there were still invisible traces of her.
"You okay?" JJ asked again.
Blake nodded. "Mmm-hmm." He pushed her out of the way, and she'll forever be in debt to him.
Eventually, Hotch, Rossi, and now Garcia and Cruz joined everyone at the hospital.
"Hotch!" Blake rose from her seat. "We have to tell Élise about this…"
"No." Hotch directly replied.
Blake tried to reason with him. "Don't you think she has a right to know?"
"Yes, she does, but we need to wait until he's out of surgery."
"Hotch…"
"Until he's out of surgery, that's when you'll tell her." Hotch sharply turned around again. "That's an order."
Blake stood down.
After a good workout and a massage treatment at the spa, whatever stresses and/or worries Élise had were suddenly gone. Élise returned to her suite after having another power lunch at the hotel's restaurant.
Today was the final day of the International Women in Power Conference, and Élise wanted to look knock-out ready. Now, she needed to put together an outfit to wear, and she couldn't decide between this one gown that was almost a silverish-gray color halter top neckline with rosette shir rousing on the bodice or this black gown with sheer short sleeves with a ruffled skirt. After holding them over her body, she picked the black dress to wear.
She heard her phone vibrate on the bed just as she set the gown she didn't want to wear down. Her smile turned into a slight frown when she saw it was Blake calling her. She swiped her finger to take the call and had the phone to her ear. "Hellooo…?"
"Hey, Élise? How's Iceland?"
"Fine," Élise answered with unease. She knew something was up, Élise openly questioned. "What's going on?"
"Spencer was shot." Blake sighed. "In the neck."
Now a wavy cloud of nausea and numbness came to Élise's stomach and head. "Wha…?"
"He's fine-he's fine," Blake quickly replied, as if it made a difference to Élise; she could barely get passed the 'Spencer-was-shot-in-the-neck' part. "He is fine. Garcia's with him and rest. And incredibly lucky, as the doctor said. Two millimeters to the right, the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery. He saved my life."
"Oh." Élise really had to sit down now and had her throat gripping, getting tighter and tighter. "And…you're just telling me this now?" she clenched her teeth.
"Hotch ordered me not to until he was out of surgery. And believe me; I wanted to…"
Élise interrupted her. "I gotta go," she hung up on her, strolled her finger through her contact list, and dialed Hotch's number. Now, she was ready to really give it. Tipping her foot, she waited for Hotch to answer, and when he did, "You ordered Blake not to contact me when Spencer was shot?"
"Élise…"
Élise hissed. "Did you even think if Spence didn't…wake up that you would tell me?" she braved herself to finish that sentence. "Now, suppose he hadn't. Did you even think about how I would have felt!?"
"Élise…"
"You find whoever's involved. And I mean everyone. Every last bastard, bitch, whatever, I don't give two cents and a dollar. Find them, and you send them all to every circular level of hell. I'm giving you all by the time I get back to the States, and if you don't, ohh, Aaron…! Those bags of crap won't be the only ones you have to deal with."
Élise hung up and collapsed on the bed, crying into the pillows.
Spencer woke up, though he felt just lifting his eyes weighed a bulk and his neck wound aching him. Still, he woke up to the sight of Blake standing over him by his bedside with Doctor Who action figures…
He abruptly had a flashback to that man he saw during the shootout…
Could it be?
Soon Spencer was surprised by Garcia with semi-bland hospital food.
Élise…
Élise stared at herself in the vanity mirror, fastening her earring and spritzing her body in a puff of vanilla, lavender, and honey scents. She could hardly get that phone conversation she had with Blake and Hotch—on her end, out of her head. After she finally stopped crying, she booked a Deluxe Aromatic Salt Scrub and Ice-and-Fire Massage, along with a back, face, and scalp treatment and a facial. And even that didn't make her feel better, let alone relax her.
Hell, now she was wondering if she should tell Rose about it. What would she tell the children about how their father was shot and barely survived?
She assembled herself and dialed Rose's number. All she had to do was call. And hopefully, not break down and cry. For Élise, it felt like it took forever for Rose to answer, and when she finally did, she had the children on speed dial.
"Hi, mommy…"
"Hi, mama!"
Now a tear came down her face. "Hi, babies…" It was a good thing she wore waterproof makeup. "How are you doing?"
Isaac blurted her. "We goood…"
"He's playin', and I'm readin' more…" Séraphine added in.
Élise gasped. "Really. That's great. That's great."
"Ar' yoo comin' hom soon, mommy…?"
"Uh-huh…"
Séraphine asked next, "You and daddy?"
Élise inhaled a deep sigh and exhaled. "Yeah-yeah. Daddy's r-really busy right now, so I-I-I'll let you know of anything, o-o-o-okay?"
"Okay."
"KK."
All Spencer wanted to do was relax in his bed, but now, Garcia—she explained to him what was going on—had him in this wheelchair, and before he knew it, the alarms went off.
At least that drama was over…
Not until some nurse tried to administer an antibiotic that he was allergic to.
…and he would have been dead first had Garcia not pulled out his revolver and shot him.
The final event of the International Women in Power Conference was held at the hotel's main hall, located on the first floor. The room offered natural and standard lighting, built-in ceiling projection and speech amplification, and three screens.
Élise was at a table with American economist Ellen Jelen, the wife of multibillionaire tech tycoon and philanthropist Carlisa Akers, COO Amira Horn of online social network and media site, Airlist, and one of the former US First Ladies. Up on the podium was the Chair herself, Monika Beck. Behind her was the former first Icelandic woman president and Prime Minister, a Justice of the Icelandic Supreme Court, and its President.
At least it was enough to take her mind off Spencer.
Spencer reorganized his go bag and satchel while Garcia and Blake were getting his discharge papers from the hospital. The case was finally over; everyone involved was either incarcerated or deceased. Unfortunately, this was not the first time, and certainly not going to be the last the Texas Ranger has seen police corruption.
There was just one last thing Spencer had to do. He had a slight smile on his face when he saw Élise via Skype on one of Garcia's tablets.
"Hey, honey."
"Hey, babe," Élise's voice shook when she saw him with that bandage on the right side of his neck. "You look good."
Spencer chuckled to himself. "Thanks. When this comes off, I'm going to look just like Boris Karloff from the 1930s Frankenstein movie. That could be my next Halloween costume; I'd wear green makeup and win the best mask."
"Oh, yeah," Élise sniffed. "I'm so glad you're okay. And for a second, I thought I was going to have to board the next plane and flog the crap out of everything…" she had her free hand on her temple. "I couldn't tell the children what happened; I just couldn't."
"It's all over." Spencer assured her.
"For real?"
Spencer replied. "For real. And I'll definitely have more free time this summer; Hotch gave me three to four months to recover. Doctor gave me a whole bunch of rules and guidelines to follow due to my surgery."
Élise yawned. "Want to tell me when I get back to D.C.? I had a long day."
"You and I both." Spencer smiled. "I love you."
Élise allowed a tear to drift down. "I love you, too."
Everyone on the team has been treating him like some sort of crown prince, heir to the throne of a European country. Especially after when Garcia saved him from being shot, repeatedly bothering the nurses to make sure he had whatever he needed, whether it was water, warmer blankets, or even Jell-O. Morgan laid off on the Pretty Boy remarks; Blake wheeled him out of the hospital; JJ offered her blanket on the plane ride home; Rossi offered any additional help; and Hotch told him he was on leave for three-four months to recover.
Élise ogled out the window throughout the entire six-seven flight back home. All she kept thinking about was what would have happened had Spencer not survived his gunshot. How would she have been without him? How would his mother and father deal with the fact that she outlived her only child? How would the children deal with the fact that their father might become a distant memory to them due to being so young?
It was late at night, about one or two in the morning. Her detail dropped her off, and she was alright until she saw them leaving the front gate and plugging in the security alarms.
"Spencer." Élise didn't care if she was about to wake up the house. "Spencer!" She looked in the kitchen and dining room. "SPENCER!"
"Élise…"
She turned around and saw him standing at the entry.
"Oh, Spencer…" she'd never been more than ever to hug him and never let go.
"It's okay, honey," Spencer comforted her and kissed her head. "It's okay."
A/N: Season 10 will be a while, but get ready for the next chapter!