spencer reid - one shots.

- angel

     Paislee felt completely numb. And it was amazing. A blissful feeling swept over her entire body, washing her with pure delight. This was heaven. This was what heaven felt like.

But then, it was hell. Excruciating hell. Paislee felt her entire body rupture with pain. So painful that she felt herself shake, her entire tensing up and only worsening her state. The woman wished nothing more for this feeling to leave her body.

Paislee felt her eyes peel open, being greeted by a blinding light as she let out a weak groan. There were sharp pains shooting through every nerve in her body, and it was unbearable. Tears blinded her vision and she clutched onto the fabric in her hands. Hell was pretty damn painful, apparently.

Wait. Fabric.

The woman's eyes darted down to her surroundings, her heartbeat accelerating. This wasn't hell. This was a hospital room.

She was alive.

And it hurt.

Paislee hissed, clutching her bandaged stomach. Tears clouded her vision, beginning to skip out of her eyes.

She couldn't even die.

The woman didn't even know if she was relieved or horribly disappointed, the two emotions beginning to mix together to her. It didn't make sense. She felt it. She had felt her breathe her last breath. She had felt all of the feeling in her body swept away.

"Paislee Morris?" A voice squeaked beside her, followed by a small cough.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Who would be here to visit her? She had no one; no one left in her life. Paislee, filled with curiosity, slowly turned her head, happiness flooding through her veins.

It was her angel.

Spencer Reid stood there, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his hand with a soft smile on his innocent and pure face. The light from the window shined through, hitting his structured face and body; enunciating every curve and sharp bone. His face showed deep concern, eyes bright golden from the light; the beautiful ribbons of honey that even she could see from the distance they withheld. The man was glowing. He was angelically glowing.

"Angel..." Paislee suddenly breathed out, unaware of her own words and completely blinded by the drugs she was still on. Suddenly, the woman forgot about the blinding pain she felt in her body.

Spencer eyebrows furrowed worriedly at the weak woman, and he slowly sat back down on his chair, awkwardly scooting it closer to her. He softly gave a tight-lipped smile at her out of mental and physical support, as he sat down next to her bed.

When Spencer found out that Paislee Morris had absolutely nobody alive left in own her family, or in her life for that matter, his kind heart wouldn't let the woman suffer through all of this by herself.

Because waking up after a near-death experience, alone, was the worst feeling—and Spencer knew that.

"I'm not an angel, Paislee, I'm an FBI agent." Spencer replied in a calming voice, gazing at her exhausted yet somehow—still beautiful—features.

"Huh..." She murmured, only looking at him with eyes clouded with her high that she was still on. "You stayed." Paislee smiled softly at him.

"I did." He replied, blushing. Spencer suddenly began fidgeting with his fingers, not knowing how to act.

"Can you help me?" Paislee asked, gulping—although, she wasn't sure what her own question meant. All she knew, was that she needed help.

"I'll try, Paislee. But you're getting help right now and this will soon all be over." Spencer told her.