Chapter 27

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Spencer's POV

I pull the navy FBI vest over my head on the way to the hotel. There is no way in hell that I wouldn't come get her after witnessing what I did on Garcia's computer screen. In fact, Garcia was the only person left behind. The others were either on their way or in the SUV with me. Hotch was driving at the front because everybody knew that if I drove, it would be even more reckless than usual.

This has to be correct. I will get her back. I have to get her back.

Hotch turns off the police siren a few blocks away from the building so as not to warn the Black Diamonds of our arrival. I shakily run a hand through my hair, whilst regrettably thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. Not the most calming of topics to think about but it doesn't seem to be going away any time soon. The statistics are not in our favour.

"Using the map that Garcia sent us of the building's interior, we will each be assigned a level along with a SWAT team. When we get there, Reid take the underground floor, JJ the ground level. I'll inform the others of their positions once we get there," says Hotch in his usual firm tone.

I hop out of the car as soon as it comes to a stop, not wasting any time. The building is derelict and almost decaying. I lead a group through the hotel's atrium and down the stairs. I already memorised the building's interior on the car ride. I send sections of the group in different directions, praying that someone will find her, alive.

Jaella's POV

God I hope that Spencer understood the message. Shit I should've made it more clear. What if I have to stay here forever?

Kurt suddenly pushes away from me and looks me up and down, obviously satisfied with what he's done. I try not to throw up the nonexistent food in my stomach. I fumble around and redress myself when he turns around and presses the off button on the camera.

"I missed doing that to you. The others wanted to have a go too but I thought it better to be just the two of us, for old times sake."

"You sick bastard," I manage to get out through gritted teeth.

"Quite a shame really," he says feigning sadness. "I wish that I could keep you alive, but after what happened before with you running your mouth like that six years ago." He tuts disappointedly. "I want nothing else for you, other than a slow and painful end."

I turn around to face him quickly. The loud sound of two gunshots ring in my ears.

The speed of the bullet forces my head to bash against the wall as my body slumps down into a crumpled position. I look down curiously at the sudden pain in my stomach.

Blood. So much blood.

I absentmindedly place my hand on my abdomen and then bring my red stained palm to my face, inspecting it almost, to make sure that this is all real. Somehow, there's only one bullet hole, I realise. In my state of numbness I look up to see Kurt also on the floor, surrounded by his own blood. My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

How did he get there?

Black patches dot around the outskirts of my vision.

I'm so drained, so tired.

I decide to close my eyes. They would feel better closed.

My breathing begins to slow down.

I hear distant yells.

A soothing voice wills for me to open my eyes again. I comply.

The corners of my mouth twitch upwards as I'm greeted with two familiar hazel eyes.

Eyes that I have grown to love.

"Spencer," I hear myself whisper. I sound faraway. "You found me."

With my diminishing energy, I lift my hand to his face and wipe away a tear rolling down his cheek.

Why would he be sad? He found me.

I trace his cheekbones, run my fingers over his lips, making sure that I'll remember them.


I heard the voice again, pleading for me to keep my own eyes open.


As persuasive as that voice is, sleep is much more inviting.

Sinner | Spencer ReidWhere stories live. Discover now