Chapter Text
L.D.S.K
Episode 06, season 01
The gun range was completely empty of people besides Reid and Hotch.
Spencer had tried numerous times to get the shot right, but despite his constant mental calculations, his shots never came out as he had imagined.
He tried to listen to Hotch’s instructions and change up his posture.
Relax and lean more to the left. Twist your body a little and keep your eye on the target.
“On swat, we broke shots down into three steps,” Hotch mumbled as he leaned down to grab the gun from his ankle holster. He quickly stood back up and demonstrated the correct stance.
“First is front sight,” he said and aimed the gun at the paper target on the wall. “Focus on the front sight, not on the target.”
Hotch kept his gaze focused as he tightened his grip on the gun. “Secondly, we have controlled trigger press.” Hotch said and focused for what seemed like half a second before the sound of a shot rang out.
“Lastly, you follow through,” he said after the bullet hit the exact perfect spot on the target and Spencer immediately tried not to think, show off , he couldn’t help himself though.
“Follow through means that after you shoot, you come right back to the target, now what did you do wrong?” Hotch asked as he holstered his gun and took off his earmuffs.
“I didn’t follow through…” Spencer sighed slowly as he stared towards the floor. Hotch heard the defeat in his voice and slowly turned to face him.
“Right. You came off the target to see where you shot,” Hotch noted as he looked at the nervous figure in front of him. He hated being the reason for the very obvious self-doubt which the younger man was battling with.
“Hotch?” Reid nervously asked and the older man nodded while humming in reply. Spencer kept his eyes on the floor.
“My firearms qualification is tomorrow morning… I barely passed my last one,” he nervously said as he imagined the team knowing that he failed… again.
Hotch put his hands on Spencer’s shoulders and he finally looked up at him, clear compassion was in Hotch’s eyes and Spencer gave a slight smile.
“I don’t want to be defenceless, Hotch… why is this so hard? I understand the maths behind it! I know the calculations for the perfect shot, so why can’t I do this?! It’s infuriating!” he exclaimed in defeat and quickly threw his earmuffs back on the shelf.
“Spencer,” Hotch said and the use of his first name snapped Reid’s attention away from his destructive thoughts.
“Trust me, I hate the idea of you in the field without a gun, even more than you do, which is why I promise that we will keep working on this until you pass,” Hotch said, firmly but with a tingle of softness in his tone
“You can do it, Reid, you got this,” he tried to say I’m an encouraging tone, but Reid simply shrugged.
He knew realistically that he would fail again… and honestly? Did he even deserve to call himself an agent if he couldn’t even shoot a straight line?
He felt useless and frankly, he felt stupid which in his case was an almost foreign feeling. But this thing, this thing he truly sucked at and no matter what he did, he just couldn’t do it.
—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—
The search for the sniper or rather L ong D istance S erial K iller finally began to narrow down after a long time of profiling and searching.
The profile eventually led them to the hospital and more specifically, the man they had spoken to in the beginning of the case, Dr. Landman.
After letting Gideon talk to the man for a couple of minutes, it became clear just how much of a narcissist the man really was.
A killer? No. But a selfish, self absorbed, narcissistic bastard? Absolutely.
“I want you to understand something,” Dr. Landman said, his gaze cold and his voice sounding more and more annoying by the second.
“When my patients are in the operating room, they need god, and that’s exactly what I give them!” Landman laughed to himself and took a step closer to Gideon.
“When someone is holding your beating heart in their hands, who do you want holding it? Me or god?” Gideon rolled his eyes and gave a signal to the agents on the other side of the glass.
Not our unsub
“Where were you today at 3:00pm?” Gideon asked as he replicated the surgeons pose - crossing his arms while staring the other man down.
“I was in my office,” Dr. Landman huffed out and Gideon gave a small nod. “Alone?” Gideon asked and the surgeon smugly rolled his eyes.
“I was in my office with Dr. Hannah Pate,” he smirked and turned his head before continuing his narcissistic statement. “I’m not the only one who thinks I’m a god.”
“She’s in the E.R. right now, go on! Ask her.”
Out in the observation room, Hotch walked towards Reid and pointed to the door.
“Reid? Let’s take a walk down to the E.R.”
Hotch opened the doors and let Reid walk through first. “My guess is, Dr. Pate is going to corroborate Landman's alibi,” Hotch said firmly and Reid turned his gaze towards his superior.
“You don’t think Landman’s the shooter?” Reid asked confusedly and Hotch nodded.
He sped up his walk and opened another door in the hallway.
“Richard Angelo wanted to be a hero because in his everyday life, he was a nobody,” Hotch stated before continuing. “Landman’s a surgeon. He has power and recognition.”
Reid couldn’t help but interrupt Hotch even though he knew it wasn’t too polite. “Yeah but you know, surgeons are like a different breed. They are stars in their field, and Landman is definitely not one of them.”
The last set of double doors opened and they found themselves walking into the busy E.R.
Nurses were running around and doctors were helping patients. Hotch walked towards the reception and got a doctor's attention.
“Excuse me” Hotch said while showing his badge to the male doctor behind the desk.
“I’d like to speak with Dr. Pate,” he said and the doctor nodded. Reid noticed a peculiar look in his eyes but decided to ignore it. He was probably just being paranoid.
“Yes, sir. I’ll go find her for you,” the doctor said and quickly walked away.
Hotch turned around and started talking in a hushed tone. Reid tried to block out all the stimuli from around him, focusing himself in the description Hotch laid out for him.
“The motivations for hero homicide are excitement, power and respect, and even though Landman’s not a star, he still gets respect.”
“Racing against the clock to save someone’s life is exciting,” Hotch said and Reid quickly replied.
“But maybe it’s not exciting enough? That’s- That’s why he shoots 3 people at a time,” he excitedly said as he mentally connected the dots.
“But he can only operate on one at a time… it wouldn’t be any more exciting,” Hotch mentioned as he turned to look around the room. Reid followed his gaze and came to the same conclusion.
“At least not for Landman and not in the O.R.”
Reid turned towards him and hurriedly whispered, “The policemen and E.R. personnel are on the exact same 24-hour shift schedule.”
Hotch followed a nurse with his eyes. “The unsub wasn’t shooting at shift change because there are fewer cops on the streets… he works the second shift in the emergency room!”
Reid nodded and gulped. That meant the unsub most likely stood in the exact room as them. They couldn’t risk sticking out any more than necessary, chances were that he had already seen them.
“That also gives him contact with his victims!” Reid exclaimed as Hotch pulled out his cellphone.
A nurse quickly intervened, telling Hotch that the use of a cell phone wasn’t allowed in the hospital. Hotch took his shot at delivering the profile to someone who most likely knew the unsub.
“We’re FBI agents, and we believe that one of your staff members might be the sniper. The man we are looking for works second shift, and he would have transferred from Arlington about 2 weeks ago,” Hotch said quietly as the female nurse listened.
She walked further towards him, scanning the room with her eyes. “We haven’t hired any new personnel in 2 months…” she slowly said and Reid furrowed his brows.
“Are you sure?” He asked and she nodded quickly.
“Look, I’ve got patients who need me,” the nurse said and Hotch tried once again to get her attention.
“He’s in his thirties. He’s vain, rude and arrogant. He works out and shows up to work late. He blames others for his mistakes and doesn’t take responsibility for his behaviour.”
“All of his coworkers detest him,” Hotch said and a flicker of recognition could be seen in the woman’s eyes.
“It’s Philip Dowd,” she declared with absolute certainty. “He picks up shifts at Arlington.”
Hotch turned even more serious, if that even was possible, and looked around the room.
“Is he here today?” He whispered and the nurse nodded. “Oh my god,” she whispered quietly and Hotch quickly turned to Reid, hoping for a way to get his youngest agent out of danger before it was too late.
“Go tell Gideon!” He whispered and Reid quickly turned around and ran down the hall.
He didn’t get far before he saw him… Philip Dowd was staring him in the eyes with a gun in his hand.
Hotch heard the thump and whimper as a body hit the floor. He quickly turned to walk towards the sound when the sound of shots and darkness suddenly flooded the room. Only a few lights remained on and he hated the sudden silence.
“Nobody moves, and nobody dies!” Dowd yelled but Hotch couldn’t stop looking at the subordinate's body curled on the floor.
Shit. This was not good.
He pointed his gun at Dowd and a smug laugh erupted from the man. “Better be a headshot,” he laughed.
Philip Dowd moved closer to Hotch but he didn't let his aim waver.
“I got this on full auto,” he smugly said and looked at the now seemingly small gun in Hotch’s hands.
“Another other than a headshot and I go down squeezing the trigger.”
He kept the gun pointed at Hotch as they all heard Reid stirring.
Please let him be, please let him b-
“Get up! Get over here! Double time! Let’s go!” The unsub yelled at Reid and Hotch saw him stumble towards them. He definitely had a concussion.
He looked towards Hotch with a smirk. “You,” he said as he pushed Reid towards him. “Take your partner's gun and put it on the counter!”
Hotch knew what he had to do but god, he hated it.
Phase one of the plan was at go
“He’s not armed, see for yourself,” he simply said, nodding towards Reid while making his gaze emotionless… cold.
Philip Dowd kicked a guard who was curled in on himself by Dowd’s feet. “Keith! Get up and put these on them! Then put them on yourself.”
The guard, Keith, shakingly got up from his spot on the floor and tied the agents hands together in front of them with zip ties. Then he tied himself up.
Dowd smirked sadistically as he pointed the gun at Hotch. “Have a seat,” he said while flashing his teeth in a sick smirk.
“Now,” he clasped his hands together while nodding towards Spencer. “What kind of FBI agent doesn’t carry a gun?”
Spencer felt his voice shake but he couldn’t just stay silent. “I’m a profiler…” he whispered and Philip let out a laugh.
“A profiler? They sent you here to figure me out?” He asked sarcastically and Reid nodded.
“Yeah… that’s how we found you,” he replied quietly and Hotch turned his cold gaze towards him. Reid found himself quivering.
What? What did I do wrong?
“Shh. Keep quiet,” he snapped and Reid subconsciously curled in on himself.
“No, no don’t shut up,” Dowd whispered gleefully and Spencer took a shaky breath.
“Tell me what you think you know about me,” he said, still smiling in a way that would haunt his dreams.
Reid turned towards his unit chief, his mentor and hoped for some guidance but the look that met him wasn’t familiar at all… it wasn’t the Hotch he knew and that was more confusing than anything.
“Well, go ahead genius. Tell him! But remember, get it wrong, and he’s going to kill you,” Hotch let his tone change to an almost dark, playful, singing voice as he copied Dowd. Spencer would have realised it was a plan, if it wasn’t for the constant flashbacks from his childhood.
He felt a shiver run down his spine and he closed his eyes for a few seconds.
Was he really on his own? Why did Hotch not help? Was this a part of a plan or was he really as useless as he had always felt?
Philip laughed at Hotch’s behaviour which only made Reid's throat twist further.
“You’re the boss. You tell me… Who am I?” Dowd asked, playing around with his gun.
“What’s my plan?”
Hotch straightened his back and looked at the other man, replicating the look of sadistic glee.
God, Hotch hated acting like this. He hated pretending not to see the look of confusion and betrayal in Spencer’s eyes. He hated causing that, but he knew it was the only way and he could only hope they would survive and Reid would forgive him.
“I know you shot 11 people in broad daylight and left us nothing. You executed a cop in front of the FBI and got away clean and I know that your plan is to go down in a hail of bullets,” Hotch said and stared the other man down.
He simply shrugged and looked back down at his gun.
“What else do you know?” Dowd asked and Hotch never once let his firm stare waver.
“I know you’re the smartest guy in every room you’ve ever been in, and no one’s ever known it. People feel threatened by you and try to sabotage you every chance they get.”
“You’re not a bad person, you help save your victims afterwards,” Hotch exclaimed and smirked at the other man.
“First guy wasn’t your fault, if the EMTs had been there on time, he would have lived,” Hotch shrugged as well, trying his best to mimic the other man’s posture and behaviour.
Dowd suddenly looked even more furious and Hotch doubted his profile for a second. He didn’t mess up, right?
“Took those guys 13 minutes! 13!” He yelled furiously and took a step forward.
Hotch tried to sound as collected as possible as he continued on in his plan. He didn’t dare to look at Spencer… it would throw him off his game and that would result in death.
“You want to barricade the door,” he suggested and looked towards it. “What?” Dowd asked and furrowed his brows.
“Let me and the kid do it,” he quickly said and Philip laughed to himself.
“Let them see that you’ve got 2 FBI agents in here doing your bidding,” he continued but Philip didn’t sound convinced.
“Right,” he huffed, rolling backwards on his feet. “Let you give them a signal,” he continued, growing more agitated by the second.
Time for phase two
“What signal? They knew you were in here,” Hotch laughed and Philip frowned at the unexpected reaction.
“They knew you were armed, what can I tell them?” He tried to sound as cold and narcissistic as possible… he just had to mimic his dad which shouldn’t be too hard. It wasn’t like he had tried everything his entire life to not ever sound like that… Oh no, definitely not.
“What is this? Some profiler trick? New negotiation tactic?” Dowd asked, confused and Hotch once again laughed. “I think it’s a good idea,” he simply stated as he leaned back, trying to show how ‘comfortable’ he seemingly was.
“Why would you wanna help me?” He asked and Hotch officially began the second phase of his plan.
“I don’t.”
“You said they knew I was in here,” he said smugly and made a face.
Hotch looked away for a second, thinking back at his earlier statement. “No. I said, they know you’re in here,” he said and the man let a smile creep onto his lips.
“No, that’s not what you said,” Dowd said, as Reid interrupted. “Why does it matter?” He desperately chirped in and the gun pointed straight towards his head.
He stared at the ground which Dowd found incredibly amusing.
Please stay quiet Spencer…
“It matters, kid, because your partner wants to help me even though he doesn’t know it.”
Dowd pointed the gun back at Hotch who stared coldly ahead. “Go ahead boss man. Tell him why.”
“If you lie or leave anything out,” he rested the gun on Reid’s face, making a small ‘pop’ to show that he wouldn’t hesitate blowing his head off.
Hotch looked at Reid, keeping the hard and cold gaze in his eyes even though he wanted nothing more than to protect the young man against everything.
He desperately needed to ignore the blood dripping from Reid’s head. He couldn’t be distracted, not now.
“They knew he was in here, they knew he was armed and dangerous, and they knew that he was gonna fight till the last round, and they sent me in here with an unarmed kid who can't shoot his way out of a wet paper bag,” Hotch sneered and Reid felt goosebumps spread across his pale skin.
He hated to admit it but he was truly scared and his trust in his boss grew smaller and smaller by the second.
“They set you up,” Philip concluded and Hotch gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Exactly!” He exclaimed and rolled his eyes.
“They’re probably laughing about it right now.”
Dowd seemed to slowly connect the dots in his mind, suddenly radiating with even more confidence than before.
“So that’s why you want to help me?” He asked and Hotch stared back at him.
“I wouldn't say I want to help you, but when they come in here to get revenge for the cop you killed? You're gonna go down fighting, and in the crossfire, a lot of us are gonna die.”
“They sent me in here. I figured, why make it easy for them?” Hotch exchanged a smirk with the unsub and finally his grip seemed to slack on the gun. He was getting through but by the look in Reid’s eyes…
The kid hadn’t understood yet.
“You know why they took away, boy genius's gun?” Hotch asked and the man shook his head slightly.
“He failed his qualification,” Hotch said, hoping that Reid made use of his eidetic memory to remember their earlier conversation. Remember the gun on his ankle.
“Twice a year, I gotta listen to him whine about requalifying. So I tutor him… And he fails again,” Hotch said, ignoring the shaky breaths from the young man beside him.
“You think you got it rough?” Dowd asked, staring at both of the agents. “These people have done nothing but undermine me since I got here!” He growled and Hotch nodded in agreement.
“Put him next to the barricade. That way, when they blast their way in here, both of our problems are solved! That sort of thing can ruin a cop's career,” Hotch said, desperately hoping that the man wouldn’t listen.
“You are one sick dude,” Dowd laughed, sounding incredibly impressed. He thought he had found his partner in crime which meant that his plan had a higher chance of succeeding.
“How do you think I found you?” Hotch huffed with a smirk before turning his head towards Reid.
“Can I ask you a favour?” Hotch asked and the other man nodded.
“You can ask.”
“I figure the chances of me getting out of here alive are pretty slim.” Hotch grinned, letting his teeth show.
“So?” Dowd asked and Hotch took a deep breath, desperately trying not to let fear and guilt overtake his voice.
Phase three, last phase is at go
“I want to kick the snot out of this kid.” Hotch turned his body towards the young profiler. The young kid he saw as family who probably had lost all trust in him by now.
“He's made my life miserable for 3 lousy years.”
Philip seemed amused and merely nodded in agreement. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”
Hotch took his chance to push Spencer, desperately ignoring the ‘thump’ his head made as it collided with the hard floor, smearing a bit of blood around.
“How smart are you now, smart guy?!” He yelled, landing a hard kick on Spencer’s ribs. Spencer let out a gasp and a cough as he felt something shift inside of him.
“It's front sight!” He was yelling and kicking him in the gut, each hit hurting more than the last.
“Trigger press!” another kick and Spencer clenched his teeth in a ponitless attempt at stopping the tears from running down his cheeks.
“Follow through! It’s not that damn hard! A dalmatian could do it!” He kept kicking even when he heard Spencer gasping for breath.
I’m so sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry Spencer…
After what seemed like an eternity, Spencer grabbed his ankle and he let the gasping boy grab his gun while he yelled all sorts of insults. When he felt the weight leave his leg, he began twisting his leg back and forth.
“Let go! Let go!” He growled, landing one last hard kick to the kid’s ribs, not hearing the crack of a rib as Spencer curled into a ball. He saw him roll over and away from both Hotch and Dowd while hiding the gun.
“Feel better?” Dowd asked and Hotch laughed even though his heart was breaking and he felt like the true definition of a monster.
“I think he got a message…”
Dowd suddenly looked straight at Hotch’s pant leg, staring at the empty holster.
“What's that?” Philip asked and Reid took it as his cue to turn around, uncurling from the secure position on the floor.
Front sight , he aimed the gun despite his hands being bound and put his finger on the trigger.
Trigger press , he shot and froze at the loud noise.
Follow through , he kept the gun at the exact same spot as he saw the red, bleeding hole in the unsubs forehead.
Right in the middle.
He had just killed a man… he ended a life.
He curled in on himself on the floor as Hotch yelled something to SWAT. His head was fuzzy and his vision was blurry. He could feel something sharp in his stomach, poking and pinching. Logically he knew that it probably was worse than just bruises but he couldn’t focus enough to care.
He needed to stay strong, Hotch most likely felt guilty enough already.
“Spencer?” Hotch crouched down beside the curled up boy and he took as deep a breath as possible.
Oh kiddo…
He pushed a strand of hair behind Spencer’s ear and immediately saw the badly hidden flinch.
“Hotch…?” He asked, the figure was blurry so he couldn’t be sure. “We need to get you to a medic, Reid,” Hotch said slowly as he helped Spencer stand.
He suddenly felt more awake, possibly another burst of adrenaline as he stood upright and his vision flooded. He accidentally put all his weight on the older man and let a whimper escape his lips.
Hotch couldn’t know he was in pain, he had to hide it.
He desperately tried to keep conscious and tried his best to ignore the strange, internal stabs he felt and instead he gave Hotch a small, reassuring smile.
“I’m good, don’t worry,” he said and looked at Hotch. He didn’t have the cold look in his eyes anymore… he looked like he was worried and feeling guilty.
He looked like he cared.
They walked out of the room and he was immediately met by the rest of the team. Gideon looked worried, of course, he tried to hide it but Reid was a profiler too, he could see the worry in the older man’s eyes.
They all stared as the two profilers stumbled out of the room. Hotch looked unscratched but Reid…?
Morgan couldn’t help but notice how Spencer was hanging off of Hotch like he was half asleep. Blood had dried in a line down from his forehead to his jaw. He had his arms wrapped around his stomach and despite him and Hotch’s close distance, something felt wrong… tense?
Morgan hurriedly came towards him and wrapped his arms around the thin, shaking body of his ‘little brother’. He frowned, confused when he heard the gasp and whimper leave Spencer’s lips, but when he pulled away and looked the young man in the eyes, he seemed to at least pretend to be fine.
He was probably just shocked…
“Hello to you too,” Spencer said with a slight smile.
God, his ribs were killing him…
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” JJ said and looked at them both.
“Don’t do that again!” she suddenly scolded and Hotch gave her a slightly guilty smile as Reid immediately jerked away, regretting it when he saw her guilt filled gaze.
“Reid, let’s get you checked out,” Hotch said and Morgan visibly tensed.
“What happened?” he asked firmly, still holding a hand on Spencer's shoulder. He looked to the ground.
“Just a concussion, Dowd hit me with his gun, I’m fine though! Don’t worry,” Spencer quickly reassured them and Morgan frowned when he looked at Hotch and saw him shake his head.
“I’ll take you, pretty boy,” Morgan quickly said and wrapped his arm around the younger man’s shoulder.
Morgan watched as Spencer told the paramedics about his superficial head wound and possible concussion. He could see how the kid’s arms were wrapped tightly around his stomach and ribs… nervous habit? He hoped… but Hotch’s guilty eyes were playing on a constant loop in his mind.
Morgan has gone back towards the others, leaving Spencer alone in the ambulance. He had hoped for a chance to ask Hotch what really had happened, the whole situation felt wrong.
Meanwhile, Spencer went through the entire thing in his head. Over and over against until cautious steps interrupted his thought process.
“You all right?” Hotch’s deep voice asked and he tried to suppress a flinch.
It was just a plan to get Dowd’s trust… Hotch was playing a game, he didn’t mean anything by it.
He looked up at the older man and gave a slight nod. He was okay… he would be okay as soon as he could get home and collapse on his bed.
“Nice shot.” Hotch looked uncomfortable and Reid immediately felt awful for being the source of his guilt.
“I was aiming for his leg,” he replied with a small laugh, trying to dissipate some of the tension which luckily seemed to work.
“I wouldn't have kept kicking, but I was afraid you didn't get my plans,” Hotch sighed and Spencer replied immediately. He hated lying, but he had to… for once, the truth wasn’t worth it.
“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer lied and Hotch gave a small smile in relief.
I got your plan when your ankle gun accidentally hit me in the face… but even then, I wasn’t truly sure if it was on purpose.
“Well, I hope I didn't hurt you too badly,” Hotch said as a final statement and Reid once again remembered the line he had practised and swiftly replied.
“Hotch, I was a 12-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school.”
“You kick like a 9- year-old girl.”
Hotch laughed and helped Reid up from the ambulance before joining the rest of the team's chatter.
—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—
It didn't go wrong until they were back at the headquarters.
The team walked out from the elevator when Reid suddenly felt the exhaustion begin to creep in. His adrenaline was fully gone and he let his eyes rest for a split second which made him accidentally walk into a desk.
They all heard the crack.
Everyone looked at him in shock, expecting him to react… just give them any reaction att all to show what the sound came from, but nothing. Reid was leaning against the desk, putting his entire weight on his arms as he held his failing body upwards.
He was too dizzy, he had been for hours and he just wanted to sleep.
Hotch was on the stairs when he heard the strange cracking sound and he immediately turned around to face his team.
Spencer was leaning against a desk, swaying sideways on his feet while the rest of the team stared in utter shock.
He quickly made his way to the young agent's side and turned his face towards him.
Spencer didn’t say a word.
They got him on the ground slowly. Morgan had helped while JJ stayed by his head, trying to get him out of his near catatonic state.
“Spence… Spence please look at me,” she frantically tried but he simply stared straight ahead, his breathing was raspy and his heartbeat was slow.
“Pretty boy,” Morgan tried as Hotch felt the guilt overwhelm him.
“He lied,” he whispered, trying to stay calm but failing miserably.
“Hotch?” Morgan asked and was shocked to see the tear-stained face belonging to his ever stoic superior.
“I had to kick him to gain Dowds trust… he said he was fine,” Hotch muttered quietly before gently pulling up the young genius’ shirt.
“Damn it!” He yelled, hitting his fists on the floor. “He lied to spare me the guilt, damn it!” Hotch yelled as he felt his cheek go wet.
He had hurt him… He had kicked so hard that the young man’s ribs were broken… he had failed him.
Gideon was on the phone with the paramedics while Elle was trying to keep Garcia in her lair. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, they all knew that.
Morgan had looked as Hotch rolled up the kid’s shirt. He was black and blue. Large marks were covering his entire stomach and chest… he felt the nausea roll up his throat when he saw the white from a rib, peeking through the skin and blood slowly running down and dripping onto the floor.
“Oh pretty boy…” he whispered, squeezing Spencer’s hand. “How could the paramedics have cleared this?” JJ asked, turning her gaze towards Morgan, refusing to look again at the bloody and bruised mess.
“He didn’t tell them,” Morgan slowly said and they all heard the quiet gasp from Hotch. “He wanted to spare me the guilt… He told me that I didn’t hurt him, god, why didn’t I make sure he was checked out?!” Hotch said and no one knew what to reply.
“Philip really did a number on him,” Gideon said as he entered the room with the phone still in his hand.
Hotch clenched his eyes shut and ran into his office which left Gideon absolutely confused. They all both heard and saw how Hotch practically wrecked his office. Throwing down the books from his shelves and by the sound of it, breaking glass.
“What?” Gideon asked and Morgan took a deep breath.
“Dowd didn’t do this… Hotch did.”
Suddenly a whimper left Spencer's throat and they all turned their attention to him. He was shivering, his whole body trembling as JJ desperately ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm him down.
“We’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,” Morgan repeatedly whispered as Hotch ran back to the group, crouching down and grabbing Spencer’s hand.
“I’m so sorry, Spencer…” he whispered and Spencer let a pained smile appear on his face,
“Hotch- d’nt… I… s’okay- not… not u’fault” he gasped out when the pain suddenly hit him. He tried to curl into a ball, tears streamed down his cheeks by the immense pain. Morgan and Hotch held him down while whispering apology after apology.
Finally the elevator doors opened and paramedics swam inside, pushing them away while strapping him tightly onto a board. Someone pushed a needle into his arm and the whimpers stopped.
The paramedics wheeled him out and the team ran down the stairs to get to the SUVs as quickly as possible.
“He’s going to be okay,” Morgan whispered and Hotch stared at the ground.
“It’s my fault…god, he’s so young,” he mumbled and looked at the pool of blood on the floor.
“He is, but he’s strong, he can do this” Morgan repeated, pulling Hotch in for a hug. Even though it was an unusual thing for them to do, they both needed it more than they could ever express.