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Spencer tried the shot again, to no avail. He was sick to death of requalification in order to carry a gun. He looked towards the target again and noticed the new hole somewhere he would least enjoy being shot.
“Did Elle teach you that?” Hotch joked, and pressed his hand against the small of Reid’s back. Reid sharply inhaled at the contact, but Hotch didn’t notice.
“They’re gonna take away my gun.” Reid thought the statement amusing, but was far too frustrated to really appreciate it.
“Profilers aren’t required to carry,” Hotch said, in an attempt to make Reid feel less anxious about the entire situation.
“Yeah, yet you carry two of them.”
Hotch pulled his hand away, sending shivers up Reid’s spine. The older profiler kneeled down to grab his gun. He slowly but confidently raised the weapon up and fired three perfect shots right into the center of the target’s chest. This shouldn’t be so arousing to Reid, but alas he felt hyper aware of the lack of space between the two men.
“When I joined the B.A.U., Gideon said to me, ‘You don’t need a gun to kill someone’,”
“I don’t get it.” Reid was beyond puzzled. How would you kill someone without one?
“You will. Good luck tomorrow,” Hotch offered, and pat Reid’s shoulder as the Doctor nodded in thanks.
Reid suddenly rolled up his sleeves, desperately wishing he hadn’t worn so many layers today.
***
Tensions were running extremely high and despite his intelligence, Reid lacked experience in the field to help him de-escalate the situation. His head was pounding as he lay useless on the cold tile floor in the dim hospital light. He did what the unsub commanded as to not endanger any of the hostages, but couldn’t imagine this would end well as both himself and Hotch were unarmed and their hands were quite literally tied.
“Shut up Reid,” Hotch said bitterly. “Come on genius, tell him. Remember if you get it wrong he will kill you.”
Reid couldn’t believe the words coming out of Hotch’s mouth. What had caused him to all of a sudden snap and become angry at him? The failure of his qualification?
Hotch kept talking to the unsub, but Reid’s ears began to ring and everything had gone silent. That is, until the unsub pointed the gun back at him and he tensed back up again.
“This guy wants to help me. Tell him why, and if you lie these people die.”
This can’t be happening, Hotch is a good person who takes pride in his work, how could he ruin it all just to help some killer? Or was this just another tactic to stall for time?
“They knew you would be in here, armed and dangerous, and they sent me in here with a kid who can’t shoot his way out.” Hotch’s tone was cold. As cold as Reid had ever heard him.
Reid’s logical thought process had ceased. Such cruel words out of Hotch’s mouth stung like a slap in the face.
“You know why they took away the boy genius’s gun?”
“Why?” Dowd asked.
“He failed his qualification. Twice a year I have to listen to him whine about re-qualifying, so I tutor him,” Hotch complained, “And he fails again.”
Hotch manipulated the unsub into barricading the doors and moving the hostages against the walls away from their fire for now. And suddenly it all made sense to the young profiler. Being unarmed, Hotch had moved the hostages out of their line of fire to keep them safe. But why? Neither of them had access to their gun.
“Can I ask you a favor? I want to kick the snot out of this kid. He’s made my life miserable for three lousy years.”
Reid’s stomach dropped at the thought of Hotch beating him. Fear chilled his bones worse than the hospital tile.
“Knock yourself out.”
As soon as he was given the green light, Hotch shoved Reid onto the ground. Reid was still recovering from the harsh words Hotch kept spitting at him and it took him a moment to understand. Hotch had found a way for them to access his second gun, by getting Reid closer to the ground and allowed him to subtly take the weapon and shoot the unsub when the moment was right. Reid’s insecurity faded into the background and his adrenaline helped him focus not on Hotch’s yells and insults, but on getting the gun without being caught. Hotch finally let up, stepped away from Reid.
“Feel better?” Dowd asked Hotch, smirking at what he thought was a man just as intelligent and sick as himself.
“I think he got the message,” Hotch replied, knowing that Reid most certainly had understood him just in time and was able to shoot him directly in the middle of his forehead. Everything was finally over.
***
“Are you sure I didn’t kick you too hard?” Aaron asked softly, as he ran his fingers across Spencer’s bare chest later than evening. A storm cloud of purples and reds had appeared, spreading across the younger man’s stomach and rib cage. It was quite a haunting sight against Dr. Reid’s pale skin.
Reid shuddered at Hotch’s cold touch, and remained silent for a moment. “I promise, it’s quite alright,” he said, and moved in closer towards Aaron and whispered into his ear. “I wish you would leave bruises somewhere else entirely though.” He wrapped his hand around Aaron’s neck and pulled him forward allowing their lips to meet. Spencer tugged at the bottom of Aaron’s lip in a teasing manner, causing a noise to emerge from the man’s throat.
***