✓ | 𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗘 · ͟͟͞͞➳ spencer reid

CHAPTER 21 ━━━

# ! | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- she risks it all for him

━━━ MERYL HOLDS HER
gun out in front of her as she rounds the corner, met with Spencer tied and gagged in a chair, Carlisle Berk with a knife against Reid's throat.

"Take another step, lady, and I'll spill his throat right here," he mutters, avoiding eye contact. She doesn't make it with Reid, either; she knows she'll break if she does. Berk's hand is shakey, this isn't how he likes to kill, he's not comfortable.

"Ooh, lady," Meryl smirks, loosening up her posture and adding a swing to her stance, dragging her gun along the side of an antique chest of drawers, "is that what you think I am?"

There's a moment of hesitation as Berk digs the dull side of the blade harder against the side of Spencer's head. The man hisses out a breath between his teeth and wrenches his eyes shut. The woman speaks again. "Fun, isn't it?"

Carlisle shakes his head. "I mean it, stay back. I'll fry this twerp."

All in a moment, everything changes. Meryl's eyes darken perceptibly, her brows lower, shoulders squaring. For a moment, she looks far taller than the 5'8 those boots make her. Her top lip curls over her teeth, a ferocious smile taking over her features. "Go ahead."

Berk narrows his eyes. "Wh- what?"

"Go ahead," she restates, "you kill him and maybe I'll let you walk out of here. I'll hunt you, Carlisle Berk. I'll make it fun, yeah? Chase you down, make sure you know I've got you right where I want you. Would you like that?"

Carlisle tentatively locks eyes with her; she dares him to look away as she takes another step forward. "And when I find you, I'll hang you upside down from that pretty little ceiling fan you hung Carter Lee from. Might use the same knife, too, as I split you open. I've never skinned anyone alive, I guess I'll need practice." Another step. "So I won't let you die, not then. You'll have time to heal and then I'll take another piece, and another. It can't be too far away from pork, right? Maybe I'll cook it up, shove it down your throat, ask you how it tastes."

Meryl takes another step, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Stab him. Give me a reason."

She's close enough now, has him locked in enough of a trance that she can grab his knife, wrench it away from Spencer, and shoot Carlisle in the ribs before he knows what hit him. Reflexively, his fingers curl around the blade and he thrashes, hashing a thin, deep line from Meryl's jaw to right below her ear. As soon as Carlisle is on the ground, the rest of the team comes rushing in, gobsmacked but trying to continue with business as usual. Meryl only has eyes for Reid, cutting through the knots of the rope and untying the gag. He's shaking but wraps his arms around her thighs, head against her stomach.

"Thank you," he breathes out, voice cracking. His thumbs rub gentle circles on the backs of her legs and she cards her fingers through his hair.

"How are you, princess?" Meryl murmurs, ignoring the deep throbbing at the side of her face. Spence glances up at her, conjuring a lopsided smile. "I'm not dead, I guess I can't complain. Son of a bitch, Mer. You're really bleeding."

Emily puts a tentative hand on Murphy's shoulder. "Let's get you checked out, doll. You okay?"

Meryl's returning smile is bright. "Peachy. Hope I didn't scare you folks too bad."

Morgan bites the inside of his cheek. "Definitely enlightening, Murph. Remind me to stay on your good side."

Hotch nods in approval as she passes, facial expression almost as worried as Rossi's. The older of the two agents taps his knuckles against her shoulder as she passes. "I knew you were Italian!"