A Criminal Minds x Reader (EDITING-IN-PROCESS)

Chapter Thirteen

*Slight Flashforward*
Where was it coming from? That small, little noise that was driving you bonkers.
You were on the ground, head furiously pounding. You took a deep breath as you struggled to sit up. Your head spun, causing you to feel queasy.
Great, probably a concussion.
Hotch.
The team.
Michael.
The ticking noise grew imbearable but then you caught a glimpse of a clock.
Time was running out. Michael still had one of the best FBI agents being held hostage. You managed to get up onto your feet and limped over to the clock that was resting on the mantel.
7:22 pm, you read. You filled with rage as you took the clock off its mantel and threw it at the ground.
Screw time. Time always screwed you over so why couldn't it be vice versa?
"That was my grandmother's clock, Agent Y/N," you felt as though you stopped breathing when you looked up and saw Michael's face.
"Michael," you turned and faced your nemesis.