VINDICTA ⋆ spencer reid

☆ derailed: part three

From the cradle bars
comes a beckoning voice
it sends you spinning
you have no choice

You hear laughter
cracking through the walls
it sends you spinning
you have no choice

~

THE WASPS GOT TO HER FIRST. Constant buzzing and haziness filled her ears - she struggled to grasp what was going on. Everything seemed to screech vehemently, the torment that could never leave her ears. Death or nearing death, anyone would think they'd get peace but it's a wasp's nest at this point.

Her breaths began to quicken, soon realized she never moved her stance whatsoever and was stuck unable to use her free will. Her eyes dart down at her torso and t-shirt - her shirt soaked up her blood as it traveled outwards from the contact source, like ink. 

Her work pen, covered in anxiety sweat, finally broke in two with the ink seeping deep into the stacks of paperwork and case files she had.

Focus. She was anywhere but her desk, separated from Ila, and something else bled from hours long of hard work.

Ring.

A lamp switch flicked on in Val's brain and with a sudden blink, the train car, the hostages, Spencer, Elle, and Dr. Bryar refocused into her view. Her eyes slowly scanned around the room, her body still in shock from everything happening. Valerie hadn't even noticed a sharp stinging sensation burning away her skin at the side of her torso. Other than feeling her side, the damage was hard to determine or observe due to her shirt soaking up the blood rapidly. Panic didn't come as a surprise - she patted the front right side of her torso, staining her hands red in the process to feel an oblong charred hole in the fabric of her shirt, yet there was no wound. 

She stretched the shirt slightly outward and stuck her hand under it to feel the grooves of her skin, from the front to the side of her skin covering her ribcage. Bingo. A sigh of relief overcame her. Best not to touch a wound without any medical equipment or some proper hygiene, but feeling her slightly raw and charred skin took Val away to the stars. A grazed bullet wound now added to her repertoire. But something was odd. Where did the bullet travel off to-

Linda. The bullet must have struck the brunt of its force somewhere else to leave Val barely bruised. With a whip of her head back, she lowered her gaze to see that Linda's hand was dripping heavily with the same crimson liquid that now marked her shirt, covering her stomach where the bullet seemingly hit her. Val couldn't stifle a small gasp - what had she done?

Her heart jolted out of her chest at the sight of Linda falling back, succumbing to the complete shock she was in. Josh grabbed her by the hips and supported her as she fell, turning his own body into a backrest. His eyes struggled to fathom Linda's injured state, turning as limp and weak as her by the minute. 

Val kneeled beside the two and attempted to place pressure on Linda's stomach, caring not if her blood and Linda's contaminated each other. What mattered was that she would make it - Val had to make sure of it. Any innocent life was worth going to hell to save for, Linda Deaton and everyone in this train car was going to leave unscathed even if she had to take in another bullet.

"Linda, you'll be okay, just listen to the sound of my voice." Val hastily waved her hand across Linda's face to see if she was responsive. Her eyes darted back and forth to follow the movements of her hands.