❝ But I'm only human
and I bleed when I fall down ❞
The Behavioral Analysis Unit team around Aaron Hotchner gets called in to assist on a serial killer case in New York where they meet the young and surprisingly talented Special Agent Skylar Brown...
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"Guys, I've got her!" Spencer said.
His voice reached through the earpiece of his team members.
Skylar nodded in relief, but the moments that followed were a nightmare. She could hear nothing until there was a loud thud, followed by a yelp that could've only come from Spencer, and then there was silence again.
Panicked, she asked, "Reid?" As expected, there was no answer.
She went through all the possible scenarios that could've happened to him, but she didn't like any of them. She despised the thought of him getting hurt. Because of her. Because she wouldn't tell him about this funny feeling in her stomach.
"Reid, Do you copy?" Hotch's voice startled her.
In a last minute impulsive decision, she ripped her ear piece out and sprinted up the stairs. It all happened so fast. Her legs moved, her hand grabbed the gun, but that was about everything she could manage. The rest happened out of the realm of her physical control.
All dots were closed but one. Skylar instantly knew where to go. She followed the cries down the hallway. Once she reached the room, she peaked inside. The girl was tied to a chair and on the floor he sat — the unsub.
He leaned over Spencer who slowly regained consciousness. Her eyes fell on the syringe in his hand.
He reached up, and the moment Spencer saw that, he choked out a helpless, "No, please. Don't!"
But Wallace didn't hear or rather didn't want to listen. He got ready to bury the needle deep into his neck—
BANG!
His ears rang loudly. The blood splattered all over his face.
Spencer gasped. Wallace collapsed and landed right next to him. Dead. His cold, lifeless eyes stared at him as the hole in his head bled out. The shot had been clean, the flesh now red, and a little pool started to build around the body.
He took a deep breath before he looked up with heavy eyes and a headache he would have for days. Skylar stood there, her Glock still raised. Her green eyes were fixated on Wallace.
"Sky," Spencer said. His voice was breathy, hoarse.
He gazed upon the syringe. A light brown liquid was kept inside. Heroin, Dilaudid and probably Morphin. He could feel his fingertips itch heavily, his throat suddenly very tight and dry, and he just wanted to stand up and grab it.
This, however, caught Skylar's attention. Before he could even finish his thought, the dangerous mixture disappeared out of his eyesight. She kicked it to the other end of the room, leaving him no choice but not to do it.
Upon further examination, she figured that Wallace was dead.
Spencer locked eyes with her. "You saved my life," he said. He couldn't determine the dark look in her eyes.
