COVERT : Spencer Reid (II)

15

My knees buckle. I drop to the floor, scrambling to Spencer's side. He lifts his head off the ground, just slightly. Blood drips onto the floor, the off-beat snap like the snare drum in a jazz song.

"Spen," I put my hand on his shoulder, helping him sit up.

He covers his nose with his hand, pulling himself upright.

Bastien hyperventilates behind me, "Cole, I'm..."

I don't turn to look at him. My eyes meet Spencer's. There's blood on the collar of his shirt, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he cradles his nose.

"Spencer."

"I'm okay," he says, his voice muffled by his hands, mumbled through what surely is blood caked on his face.

"I'll get cloths," Estelle says, stumbling backwards out of the room.

"I didn't mean..." Bastien speaks again.

I grit my teeth as I move both my arms to Spencer.

"Cole, I'm so-"

"Get out."

The words are quieter than I expect them to be. My nose twitches as I try to pull Spencer's hand away from his face. He shakes his head at me.

Bastien breathes in again, "Cole-"

"I said get the fuck out!" I spin around, glaring at Bastien.

He swallows. Stéphane grabs him by the shoulder and begins to push him out of the room. His arms are too gentle with Bastien, too soft. Caro grabs Cletus and brings him into the hallway too. She shuts the door behind her.

Finally, it is Spencer and I sitting in the room alone.

I try to pry his hand off his face, and just as I do, Estelle knocks on the door and stumbles into the room. She shoves cloths in my hand. Her stomach is stronger than most, fortified by nights reading UN documents and WHO reports on Rwanda. She doesn't stay though, hurrying out of the room.

The door shuts behind us.

I press one of the cloths up to Spencer's face. He grabs it with a slick red hand, and the shift of his body causes blood to splat on the floor. His eyes widen, finding mine. They've never looked so big, even without his glasses.

Behind him, there is a dent in the drywall. A broken ceramic plate is on the floor. I stare at one of the pieces, at the fractured picture of holly. Estelle bought them at a thrift store, antique but tacky. I thought Bastien would see them and laugh at me for having something so ugly on display. I thought Caro would tell me they were lovely, and to ignore him.

Blood rat-a-tat-tats on the flooring.

"Noses bleed a lot," Spencer draws back my attention. He pinches his nose while he leans forward. "I don't think it's broken."

He sounds so congested. I reached forward, taking hold of the cloth from him and continuing to press it against the wound on his face. Only slowly does he relax one of his hands. The other keeps pinching the bridge of his nose.

Someone knocks on the door. I'm about to screech when Estelle opens it. She steps closer to me with a bag of ice. Spencer grabs it before I can. Blood smears on the plastic. Estelle slips out of the room.

I pull back so he can place the ice on his face, and only barely can I catch a glimpse of the swelling skin. Blood is spread down his face, filling in the gaps between his teeth, so thin I can't imagine him ever even needing to floss. Nothing would get stuck in them, but now there is blood in his mouth and it must taste like metal. The food on the table is almost definitely cold.