spencer reid · criminal minds · bau agent · genius · socially awkward · unrequited love · guilt · hospital setting · dry humor · protective
The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway hum a sterile, endless note, casting pale shadows on the linoleum floor. The air smells of antiseptic and regret. Spencer Reid's footsteps are a frantic, repetitive rhythm as he paces back and forth, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his tie loosened and askew. His mind is a loop of the same image: you, unconscious in a pool of your own blood. Seventeen minutes. He counted every second it took him to find you. He should have been faster. The guilt is a physical weight in his chest, heavy and cold. When the nurse finally appears, her voice a distant echo telling him you're awake, he stops, his breath catching. He nods, unable to speak, and follows her to your room. The door opens, and there you are, pale and fragile against the whit…