I'm Going To Lose You [Open]

[Krys Robin]

OOC: Since I'm being urged.. Just a heads up though I'll be slow with this one until we wrap up other plots I just keep getting poked by people and I don't want to put it off because when I get busy I'll be hesitant about starting new threads.))

The last few weeks had been terrible for the data analyst even though the threat of Gerald was no longer an issue as he had been killed. Spencer had shot him. Krys had been blindfolded the entire time but hours later while at the hospital and being tended to Matt and Spencer both tried to explain, separately, what had happened. It didn’t sit right with Krys. Spencer would never hurt a fly let alone shoot a man, UNSUB or not. It just didn’t feel right. So why? No one was denying that Spencer pulled the trigger. Some had even been concerned about it. What had prompted him to do something like taking a life? Furthermore he was now being investigated by his own team and lawyers were looking into the incident to dwelve into civil suits of the mishandling of a case or being too trigger happy. Spencer. Trigger happy? It didn’t make sense!

Krys was taking it all extraordinarily hard. Krys could barely deal with the death of a fish let alone one that of a person. Factor in that it was actually someone who had been killed by someone she loved, someone who had shown her an ounce of care... She just couldn't handle it. Why would Spencer shoot someone? Krys didn’t want to be egotistical and believe that it was something she had done because even though she cared deeply about Spencer and they had shared a kiss, it still didn’t seem real to her. Somehow she still didn’t know that he loved her back. So why would he get himself into so much trouble? It concerned her. He was risking his job, and once he had risked his life, all in situations involving her. So she blamed herself. Krys was always too hard on herself for no reason at all, even when it was beyond her control. The past few weeks were no different. In fact, they were worse.

She hadn't even uttered one of her ridiculous facts. She rarely smiled or even spoke a word. What was the point? Obviously something was up but she didn't even stop to think that someone may have noticed. Why would they? She was just the data analyst, just a prop and she liked it that way (so she said). If one day she up and disappeared no one would miss her. They'd miss what she could DO with a computer but not her. Hell, no one had so much as spoken to her the last two weeks... Then again, in all fairness she had been avoiding everyone work and otherwise. What aided her cause in separating herself from society was that she was still ‘recooperating’ in the Virginia area since it was still a relatively ‘short’ time since the incident (over a month). The FBI didn’t wish to move her but they still insisted on her working out of her hotel room which turned into her working in the BAU computer lab.

So every morning, bright and early, they would find her there different than she was before. Typing away, her back toward the window. No more friendly hello’s, no more cheery facts, or silly antics. No, Krys had dove into herself and only spoke up when spoken to as a result of her ordeal and the kiss with Spencer. Did he even remember? Did he hate her? So many things were unresolved. Occasionally Derek and Penelope would stop in, say hello. Krys knew what they were doing. Despite her awkwardness she was a bright young woman. They pitied her. In a way, she felt guilty that they felt that way. They shouldn’t have, it wasn’t their fault. But every day it was the same. People would check in on her, except for Hotch (something Krys was still kicking herself about), sometimes even Matt flew down. She felt bad about him too. Wasting money like that just to baby her. Worst of all was Spencer.

Despite the kiss they had shared weeks ago she had avoided him as best as she could. Slinking around halls, burying herself in her work, just keeping away from him. She needed to. She loved him and with everything going on with the court she didn’t want to hurt him anymore, let alone suffer the hurt if he said he didn’t feel the same way about her. Silly thing was a small part of her still worried, stupidly, that he didn’t feel the same way. She loved him. She loved him so much it hurt. She was causing him pain and she could see it. This was what finally pushed her over the edge along with the nightmares, sleep deprivation, and already pre-existing feeling of worthlessness. The scars on her back had even begun to hurt again, though it was all subconscious. It was too much. She couldn’t allow herself to hurt anyone else that she cared about any longer. No, she could have some control over this miserable life.

Krys hadn't showed up for work at the BAU faction of the FBI. For some reason she was actually doubtful that anyone would notice. She hadn't even called in, though any who knew Krys knew that she would have come in even if she was dying (an ironic metaphor). But she left no trace, no hint and that was exactly how she figured it ought to be. No one cared, but she certainly didn't pity herself. No, she simply just couldn't take it anymore.

What her father had done in the past that she constantly said had been forgiven. That was a lie. And to herself. She couldn't take being alone anymore even though that's exactly what she wanted to be. She couldn't take being silly and funny to please other people just to hurt herself. She couldn't take or understand a lot of things and none of her little facts had the ability to make her feel better. No matter how desperately she wished to be like everyone else, she would always be an outcast. She'd always be a failure. Maybe she was never meant to fit in... Maybe, if there was a God he had made a mistake in making her. It was entirely possible.. If he did exist and 'if we were made in his image' that he could make mistakes just like the rest of the human race. Wasn't it?

Her apartment was dark despite the morning hour. Lightswitch off, not even flicked on. Papers strewn across a table, computer screen on with the screensaver bouncing about, laptop bag resting by the door along with her converse sneakers. The television blared some sort of episode of Law and Order (which always played throughout the entire day). Seemingly empty. The door slightly ajar. It wasn't unless someone dared to journey to the kitchen nook that they would see her lulled head, messy brown hair and pajama pants clad legs sticking right out. Her back facing the door she didn't even look up if someone entered.

Her arms resting on either side of her the deep cuts quite evident as they oozed dark red blood. Krys' chocolate brown eyes that were once filled with such life stared blankly down at the mess that she had created as if in a daze. But there were no tears, only amazement at what she had actually managed to do. No amount of facts or reading could prepare you for actually seeing it, feeling it. Numb was fine. She was glad for it. It was the first time that she actually couldn't feel any emotion within her gut in her entire life. Not guilt for failing in some way, not sadness, not loneliness, not even fear. There was only nothing. Just passing time.

Her throat suddenly felt very dry as her lips parted as she stared, no words came but rather a soft humming of the Beatles tune 'Blackbird' under her breath. Every once in a while her voice would crack and she had to force the sound out, but it was keeping her occupied and that's what mattered. She tried to flex her fingers but could not, looking to her other hand she tried to do the same and failed once again. Extremely calm she blinked before tilting her head back to look up at the ceiling. 20 ceiling tiles. Just like before. She was suddenly posessed with the urge to count them but refrained. Normal people probably wouldn't count ceiling tiles as they bled out in their kitchen.

Tilting her head to the side she looked to the fridge and briefly wondered if there were any hot pockets left. And for no reason in particular brought on by this obviously pathetic and silly thought her eyes began to water and she cringed, silently crying to herself cursing the day that she could fix computers but not herself. Feeling that, once again, that she had failed somehow.

[Dr. Spencer Reid]

Reid didn't understand it. In the weeks sense the kiss Krys had distanced herself, the opposite of what he thought would happen. He had had the grand vision that that night would have forced Krys to see things as they actually were. But some how it had back fired. She didn't want to talk to him. Didn't want to see him, and tried to avoid him as much as she could. Maybe he had been wrong about her? Maybe she didn't like him the way that he did and the kiss was just a factor of little sleep and it had scared her off? How could he have been so stupid?! Now she wouldn't even talk to him, no matter how much he tried. He didn't know what to do. But it wasn't only toward him that she was acting weird to. She didn't talk to barely anyone except when you addressed her. Everyone in the BAU saw the changes, but no one understood them, not even the one closest to her. Morgan and Reid had actually taken to talking about it, trying to profile her. Derek Morgan was the only one that Reid had talked about his feeling toward Krys to, even if the whole team knew by just watching him. Yet they had been unable to figure it out.

The first few days of her silence Reid had tried to get into her life, try and force her into telling him what was wrong. But she never did. After a long week he gave up on trying to talk to her, calling her when he was out on a case. He still went to see her everyday and sent her an e-mail while out of town, but he didn't try and make he open up. He figured there was nothing he would do that would make her open up. He didn't want her to think that he had given up on her though, that would have been the worst thing. So he said hi every morning, and bye every night. He smiled when he saw her, even if she didn't see him, or smile back. And he tried to act as if everything was normal every other time. Yet inside he was dieing. He was worried sick about her. He had thought she had made great progress that night, that after that everything would be okay. How could it have back fired so badly?

That morning when he walked into the BAU he turned down the hallway, going the wrong direction from his desk, to Krys' computer lab like he did every morning. Only this time when he reached the door Krys wasn't inside it. He looked at the empty room for several moments before he decided that it was still easy and she would be in later. It was a good thing she had actually taken to sleeping in that morning. Yet he wasn't completely convinced that that was the case. Never the less he went to his desk and started his work. As time went by he went back to the office to see if she had come in yet, nothing. Every ten minutes he found himself going to see. After an hour he knew there was something wrong. He dialed the number to both her cell phones and didn't get an answer. When she didn't answer her family phone Reid knew that something was terrible wrong.

Shaking in fear he looked over at Morgan working at his desk and said trying to keep his voice from sounded to worried. "I can't get a hold of Krys... She's not answering any of her phones....." He knew Morgan had to be worried for the girl as well, knowing that she was always into work before they even were. He wanted to get up and run to her hotel room that instant, but he figured he might as well get Morgan's okay to do so, after all Reid might just be over reacting. It wasn't that big of a stretch.

((ooc: So I decided to not be at Krys' yet because I'm not sure if Hotch should go with Morgan and Reid or not.))

[Derek Morgan]

Something was wrong with Krys.

It didn't take alot for Morgan to notice it. She wasn't herelf. The first time that she'd been in their offices, Morgan had seen her put on a puppet show and poke fun at every agent in that office - including SAIC Aaron Hotchner. She'd told him that he got an F in kindgarten, for God's sake. For most of the time that he'd seen her leading up to her kidnapping, she'd been a fact spouting, happy young woman. The differences now were easy to see, and they were scary. Before the last two weeks, it had been merely difficult - the normal after affects of being kidnapped and nearly killed by the UnSub named Gerald Fay. Morgan had thought that things would turn around two weeks ago when he'd walked into Reid's apartment and saw Krys there.

But no, things had gotten worse.

She'd worked at the BAU offices for the time being, but hardly talked to anyone. She kept to herself, barely tallked ... Morgan would bring Garcia and himself around to try and get her to cheer up, talk a bit - he knew that Hotch had noticed it too, and without a doubt Reid had.

So when the young agent came up to his desk that day, his brown eyes wide and afraid and worried, Morgan felt his heart skip a beat.

"I can't get a hold of Krys... She's not answering any of her phones....."

"I'll get Hotch." He pushed himself out of his desk and faced Reid. It was routine to check on an agent that went MIA, but Morgan didn't sense anything routine about this. This didn't feel to him like the time they'd had Hotch follow Elle. There was the feeling of something sinister in the air. "Get your stuff together. You're coming with us."

He went in the direction of Hotchner's office, his steps quick. Without knocking, he opened the door to his office, and spoke without pleasantries. "Krys didn't show up to work." His voice was full of implications.

[Krys Robin]

OOC: Can't do much as she's still by herself but I'll post anyhow until the team gets to her home.))

The sound of the television set provided her current soundtrack. The murmur of voices and other sound effects that blurred all together and somehow made her feel like she had company even though she was all alone in her little hotel room. Lazily tilting her head to look up, tired from lack of blood, she noticed how nice of a set up it was. A kitchen nook, where she currently sat all sprawled out, a bed room, a living room, and a balcony. Nice enough. More space than she really needed but still nice.

With that thought she guided her increasingly tired gaze back down on her wrists. The dark crimson continued to seep out and Krys' gaze remained transfixed as if in awe that her body could contain so much liquid. How did it keep coming out? It puzzled her despite all of her knowledge on facts. She knew exactly how much blood she contained, but looking at the amount that was spilling out it was still... impressive for lack of a better word.

It was selfish she knew, to do such a thing because she was scared and hurting, but she just hurt so badly. She couldn't just sit by and watch terrible things continue to happen, let alone to people she cared about and have it all be her fault. No. Not a chance. So she'd do the right thing and take herself out of the equation so the people that she loved would be spared. The person she loved more than anything. Spencer. Oh god, he would be so angry. But she wouldn't have to bare his anger if she wasn't alive and really, she was trading her own life (in her mind) for him to be safe so it wasn't even a question. He could go on and harbor resentment but this was the 'right' thing to do. She couldn't let him get hurt by anyone, let alone by herself, ironically enough.

For a few days after she was gone it would sting sure, but he would move on. It wasn't like he needed her. He didn't love her. The kiss of his had apparently been an accident and they hadn't spoken of it since. She had tried to push him away bit by bit and it seemed to be working aside from pleasantries he didn't speak to her at all (through her fault not his). Everything would go according to plan. According to logic. That was dependable. Facts were dependable, not emotions. Emotions just hurt.

Her eyes trailed now to her cell phone on the floor. It had dropped from her pocket when she had cut her wrists and slid to the floor. Not knowing what posessed her, perhaps some last minute regret she managed to nudge it, very weakly, with her right hand and press a button that dialed Spencer's phone (as his calls to her cell had piled up blinking with 'missed call from:..'). She heard his voice on the other end but didn't answer any questions the way he probably wished her to, instead she would say what she needed to say.

"I-I'm sorry Spencer." She cried weakly, cringing out the words. "I had to. I c-c-can't." Already she felt tears begin to sting her eyes and felt her voice shake... Suddenly she was very scared. "I-I-I messed up." Her nose became stuffy and she tried to swallow any phlegm but was failing. "I didn't want to... I didn't mean to... I'm tired. I..." She lost all train of thought. She had known what she wanted to say and yet now she couldn't even think. The phone rang out of battery and automatically shut off.

Her eyes focused back on her wrists and the blood. He'd hate her. Matt would hate her. She knew that. They'd all hate her, but eventually they'd understand. Suddenly she felt lightheaded and very tired. That was a common occurence lately, but this time around she'd give into it. Her chest rose and fell heavily, her heart racing and she closed her eyes. Her head lulled against the cabinet behind her head that kept her in an upright sitting position despite the loss of blood from her body.

Sometimes you just had to do what was right. Even in depression and death Krys believed this.

[Dr. Spencer Reid]

Reid watched as Morgan went up the stairs to Hotch's office. His eyes watched as he went in. Part of him couldn't wait for this little cerade to play out. He just wanted to run out of the office and get her her hotel room. He had a very bad feeling and needed to know that she was okay. But she couldn't be because else she would have answered her phone. The other half knew that it was the best thing to do. And even if he wanted to leave some how he couldn't find his legs. They didn't want to work. Thus he stood staring at Hotch's door for what seemed like hours (it had been less than a minute) waiting for the two agents to come out so they might go find her.

That all changed when his phone rang. His heart stopped for an instant afraid and wishing that it was Krys on the other line. With shaking hands he pulled it out of his pocket and saw the glowing number on the front. It was Krys. His breath became jagged as he quickly flicked the phone open on the third ring hoping that she was calling to say she was sorry; that she had over slept. "Krys where are you?" He answered in a blur of words. Her answer came as a surprise to him. It was weak. She was crying. She was sorry. For what? "Are you okay?" he asked through the knot in his voice, knowing then that she wasn't okay. "Krys what happened? Krys?" He called through her own words. His heart was racing now and he knew what going on in that moment.

"I didn't want to... I didn't mean to... I'm tired. I..." He knew that it was a suicide note, she had done something to herself. She wanted to die. He put all the pieces of the puzzle together than had hated himself for not seeing it before. Why hadn't been seen all the signs that were all to apparent now? Was it to late? When the phone cut off Reid continued yelling into it, not caring how loud he was being or how many people were looking at him. "KRYS!!! KRYS NO! PLEASE NO!" He hadn't even noticed that he was crying as he turned, dropping the phone, and running. He had to get there as fast as he could. There was no time to wait for Morgan and Hotch. There was no time at all. He made his way to the parking garage as fast as he could and snagged the first SUV with the keys still in it, which was probably meant for someone else but he didn't care. Getting to Krys was the only thing that mattered.

He speed off into the streets with the lights blazing and horn blaring. If a car didn't get out of his way he made his way around it,going onto the side walk a few time. In record time the young agent made it to the apartment, though it felt like it had taken him hours to get there. He only hoped that he was on time. That he wasn't to late. He couldn't let Krys die. Running to the room on pure adrenaline Reid entered the small room. It was dark, the TV was on. He didn't see Krys. His heart was racing and he didn't know what to do. "Krys?!" He called out hoping that there would be some sort of response, any kind.

[Krys Robin]

OOC: So I had a post... My comp ate it. This one won't be as good but I'll try.))

Lightheaded. That's all she really felt. Light. Like there was nothing. Like her body weighed nothing. As the blood slowly poured out of her onto the ground. Briefly she wondered if she decreased in weight all that much as the blood drained from her and the color from her face. Did that factor in to the ending count? There were no facts that prepared you for that knowledge. In that moment she took notice in the little things. The darkness of the room, the soft sound of the television set in the distance, the breeze outside.

The breeze. As her eyes closed she took in the memory. Keith had snuck upstairs and opened the closet after a 'punishment' where her father had forgotten to let her out. She could barely breathe as she rushed out. After finally collecting herself she grabbed a book and crawled out her window to sit on the porch rooftop, book in lap. The summer nighttime breeze providing as much as a hug as she experienced as a child. It was the simple things don't you know. Sometimes memories, no matter how awful, was all you had, especially when you didn't have many personal connections to lose. But there were some...

Spencer. Who would look out for him? She didn't mean to sound egotistical but they had made so much progress! Who would look out for him while she was gone? Who would make him go outside his comfort zone? Who would tease him, drag him into new situations? He had just started to go in arcades, run onto the ice with no skates, they were halfway to karaoke to be sure! Who would fix his hair when it got rustled? Who would hold him when he was sad? Who would kiss him when there were no words? Certainly not her.

Krys knew exactly how she felt though she knew not how to express it. She could not and would not allow herself to. She loved him. She loved him with all of her heart that it hurt. In a way she needed him, but this was dangerous too. A part of her worried that the kiss between them had never happened, that it was just some cruel trick in her head, laughing at her. The other scenarios were that maybe he didn't mean it, or maybe he made a mistake. None of it was pleasant to even imagine.

Dark. It was so dark. She could tell even with her eyes closed. The forecast had predicted rain. It seemed only right. Her head lulled to one side as she fought to take a slow intake of breath. It hurt yet she felt no pain, only strain, only more difficulty. Things could never be so easy. That's when she heard a familiar voice in the back of her head yell her name. Spencer. Nope, things could never be easy.

Her eyes dared to open, though they threatened to stick together from how long they had been closed and the tears. Wetness stained her drained face as she tried to respond, but currently all that came out were weak little gasps and sniffles. She couldn't see Spencer, her back against the lower cupboard of the kitchen nook in her hotel room she couldn't see his face or figure, though she had heard him. Was she going insane? Did she really want to see him so badly?

[Derek Morgan]

Morgan was still waiting for the unit cheif's response when he heard the yell from behind him. He spun, taking in the scene behind him. All he caught was the phone snapping closed and Reid's panicked, dangerously frightened face. In a word that summed up what he'd be doing, Morgan said "Hotch!" and took off after the young genius. He didn't look back to see Hotch dialing 911.

He took the stairs back into the bullpen two at a time and skipped the last four, landing and taking off at a run through the bullpen. He'd probably get hell from Strauss for this, but it wasn't even a thought in his head at the time. He noticed heads turning to stare at him as he made his way through - Prentiss stood, Rossi called after him, but he didn't make any notice, just kept running. He'd be too late to join Reid in his car - he wished he wasn't, because he honestly didn't think it was safe for the kid to drive - and jumped into his own car, slamming the door behind him and revving the engine. He could see Reid's car leaving the parking lot at a speed that was dangeorus for even the best driver to be driving at.

There was only one thing that this could possibly be - something that, honestly, Morgan had feared, but hadn't believed would happen. Krys was smarter than that, wasn't she? She was smarter than taking her own life. Couldn't she understand how much this would hurt Reid? Even if she didn't value herself, couldn't she see that? She was obviously in love with him, Morgan could tell - so why would she risk hurting him like that?

Morgan took a left and swung into the hotel that the technical analyst was staying at. He could see Reid's car parked haphazardly in front of the hotel, could feel the wake in the air that he'd left when he ran into the hotel. There was panic in the air.

He took off into the hotel, not even bothering to stop and explain himself to the people that stared as he dashed past them through the lobby and up the stairs - he didn't have time or patience to wait on an elevator. Running the last few floors to the analyst's room, he found the door already opened and heard Reid's panicked voice from within.

His fears had been confirmed, them. He knew Hotchner had already called 911, and didn't waste time bursting into the room and finding Reid nearing the kitchen.

"Where is she?"

[Dr. Spencer Reid]

Reid stood in the small room listening. He feared for the worst. That she would already be dead and unable to make a sound. He thought about calling out again but figure that that might cause him to miss her response. Reid could have very well walked through the small hotel room and found her with out any help but he didn't want to move until he knew she was okay. he didn't want to walk around the corner and see her dead body. He couldn't take that. he would end up killing himself if he saw that. He heard a small sound. He couldn't have been sure if it was something from the TV or if he was hearing things. Some how he felt like it had come from the kitchen, though Spencer was sure he couldn't have known where the small sound had come from with the TV on. Taking a large breath of what felt like poison not air he started to move on slowly.

He heard Morgan come in behind him. Heard his voice ask where she was. But he didn't answer. He just continued to the slightly ajar kitchen door. He knew Morgan would understand. With a shaking hand he slowly pushed it open. The first thing the young genius say was all the blood. he felt sick to his stomach. Blood flowed the floor. Could all of it really be Krys'. His eyes fell on her a few moments later. She had cut her wrists. By the looks of how much blood she had already lost she had been there for a while. She was near death. Her eyes were just barely open and already looked dead. Reid's breathing became jagged as he say the woman he loved dieing.

"Krys.... oh god..." he muttered in full tears now. He rushed into the room knowing she couldn't lose any more blood. He slipped on the liquid on the floor and fell to the floor. Pulling himself beside her he pulled off his brown jacket and tied it around the hand closest to him. He applied as much pressure as his physically drained body could. He knew Morgan would get the other wrist tied tightly. Through sobs he asked, "Krys... Krys can you hear me? Please... don't die... You can't die on me now. No... you can't. Please don't do this.... Please!" He was painfully aware of the blood soaking through his cloths. Her blood staining him. He couldn't stand the feeling. He didn't want the blood on him. He couldn't have it.

[Krys Robin]

Dimmed eyes peered into darkness at the sound of her name on a familiar tongue. Spencer. There were two pairs of footsteps and then another voice. Morgan. She knew them both. If she had her wits about her she would have curled up as small as possible so to prevent them from finding her but right now she was far too drained, far too tired, so the thought never even crossed her weary mind. No, instead she just sat, like a forgotten ragdoll her legs sprawled across the tiles her back against the wooden cupboard which was thankfully holding her up.

"Spence?" The soft name felt so very at home in her mouth though it barely came out. She saw a blur rush to her side nearly colliding with the floor. He was scrambling, bumbling, not at all unlike him but there was more to it. His breathing was quick yet labored. Was something bugging him? Intelligent Krys Robin could no longer process common sense thought and instinctively she furrowed her brow with a slight tilt of her head, worried about what might be making him so upset (though there she was bleeding out on the floor). She was oddly calm, despite the circumstances perhaps as quickly as it had sunken in it had floated away.

As Spencer's attention was directed on her wrists and tying his coat around them, something she couldn't even feel (though she was easily manueverable in the state that she was in), she watched him intently, as though he was a deer doing something as matter of fact as grazing, yet worry overtook her features as much as it could by this point. "Spence. You're crying." She deducted softly, not at all understanding why but still she felt a twinge of guilt that he was in pain. Even as he 'yelled' at her she seemed unphased, maybe she could barely hear him or perhaps she was too consumed by her own worry for him. "Don't cry." Her brown eyes, though tired and absent still showed some seriousness, she wasn't going to let the man that she cared so much about.. Cry. Not when they had made so much progress!

Lazily her head lulled down and she was now blatantly looking at her own blood, though all she could see was dark blotches. "I made a mess." She murmured to herself as her head turned to look at Derek Morgan as though a lecture from the resident 'big brother' was in order.

[Derek Morgan]

Morgan's breath caught in his throat as he followed Reid into the kitchen, unsure of what they'd find but sure that it wouldn't be good. If they found her and things were more than bad, Morgan was ready to tackle Reid out of that room. If that was the case, it wasn't something that the agent needed to see. Morgan was afraid that'd drive him over the edge. Reid wasn't exactly new to gruesome sights - but quite obviously, this would be different.

That fact was clear to him as he saw Krys bleeding out on the kitchen floor. He was immediatly jolted into action - if they were to save Krys' life, they would have to move quickly. Without hesitation, Morgan lifted his shirt over his head and tore it into strips, kneeling down next to the young girl and tying a strip around one wrist.

"I made a mess."

He tied it tightly around her wrist, then reached around and tied the other strip around the other wrist. "Yeah, kiddo, you did. It's alright, though, sweetie. I'll take care of it." It was a side of Morgan that he didn't often show - the side that had taken care of his sisters when they were little and their father was gone. Sure, he was the one who would take the big brother role of his entire team, but the blatantly caring, kind, soft side that she'd just shown wasn't always out in the open.

She was pale, and that scared him - he gently rubbed her back, trying to keep her responsive. He met Reid's eyes, mouthing the words 'Hotch called 911.'

[Dr. Spencer Reid]

"Spence?" The word only made Reid cry harder. It was weak and filled with pain. Trying to catch his breath enough to answer he was finally able to say, "I'm here." Though it was very soft and almost to quiet to hear. The sound of the TV in the other room had seemed to disappear, all Reid actually heard was Krys' jagged breathing and her occasional words. Not even the sound of Morgan working on the other side of her body could be heard. In a way it was only Krys and Reid in the word. If she died at least he would be there. He didn't want her to have died alone on the cold kitchen floor. No one should die alone. Spencer didn't want Krys to die at all, and was determined to stop it from happening f he could. But in his days in the BAU he had learned that good people don't always live. That they could try everything to save her and she might still die. It was a sad reality but Reid had learned to expect death, and was afraid that he was expecting now.

"Spence. You're crying." Spencer knew then that she wasn't, first of all, in her right mind. Second of all she wasn't hurting because of her wounds, but because he was hurting. It seemed she had forgotten what she was doing, and thought that something else was wrong with Spencer. Reid wanted to try and play into her fantasy, and ease some of her pain. if she did die he wanted her to die happily, not thinking that something was wrong with him. But some how he couldn't do that. Maybe it was the little part of him that couldn't believe that she was going to die. Or maybe it was his sadness that was messing his brain up. He couldn't focus on what he was doing. His words came out in sobs, "It's okay Krys, everything is going to be okay. You'll see." He said not even sure of what he meant. She had wanted to kill herself.

Reid's eyes looked over to Morgan as his voice broke into his word. Reid had actually forgotten the other man was there. A small part of Spencer felt ashamed of crying so much in front of his teammate, but there was to much going on for him to really care about that. Reid hadn't known what to say when Krys said she made a mess. The words only brought more tears to the young agents eyes because he understood why she said them. She was a victim and always had been. And even in death she was going to be a victim. It pained him to know this. Morgan however had taken to answering that for him. Reid's eyes were glued on the other man's face and when he mouthed that Hotch had called 911 Reid was suddenly relieved. The paramedics would be there any minute, he just knew it. They had to keep her alive till then. "It's almost over Krys. Don't worry..." He said finding the words more meant for him than the the woman he loved.

[Krys Robin]

Her brown eyes momentarily broke from studying Spencer to see what Derek Morgan was doing. She watched in quiet, dimmed awe as he wrapped strips of his torn shirt around her wrists. She was a smart young woman, she should have immediately known what he was doing it for yet her face showed no recollection, no kind of response which was odd for her. Instead she keyed in on words, something she always had a fondness for. "Kiddo." Blinking she looked up at Derek much like a young child would, still in awe, her voice soft. "That's me. Isn't it?"

Her eyes rolled back down on the mess that she had created, admiring the dimmed colors and taking little pleasure in the simple things. It was Morgan's gentle rubbing on her back and particularly hard sobs from Spencer that got her to look back up at the young genius, eyes filled with worry as she suddenly seemed to snap into what she had done and what would inevitably happen. She had ruined everything! She hadn't been thinking! And now she was scared and unbelievably upset.

"I me-messed up." She managed to choke out in between her own cries, her body gave a few short jolts from the quickness of her breath mixed with her own cries. "I-I didn't mean to. S-S-Spence... What's going on?" Her question had been weak and 100% genuine. It came out in a mere squeak mixed with panic. Only now was she beginning to realize the consequences of her rash action and it frightened her. This was evident in her eyes alone as another discovery was made that haunted her. "I can't move my arms." Her eyes connected with the young man's again, absolutely terrified. "Spence I can't move my arms."

Now she was beginning to muster what few tears her drained body would allow and without willing to she was trembling, very weakly but it was the most amount of movement she had shown since the two men had arrived. Her eyes began to dart about in fear, back and forth. At Spencer's words they directed themselves right back up. "It's not going to be okay. How is it going to be okay?" And as quickly as that begging for a soothing answer had happened she was once again refocused. "Don't cry. Please don't be upset. Please. Please. Please." Loss of blood provided loss of concentration, and with that provided loss of color in her features, and with that would follow loss of conciousness.

Her eyes slowly began to close, wanting to give into the tiredness that had suddenly washed over her and plagued her entire body. "It's cold." She murmured softly, her chin threatening to rest against her chest. "It gets cold.."

[Dr. Spencer Reid]

Reid watched Krys in what could only be described as horror. She was starting to realize what she had done. At least Reid now knew that she really didn't want to die, that she had made a mistake. Though that was only little help. Again, though, she seemed to fall into some sort of delirium in asking what was going on. Reid could have answered rashly, and for a moment was going to by saying, "Your dieing." Yet he knew the woman was suffering enough. You could see her body quivering. The tears finally stopping because he was all cried out from the drive over and the last few moment. "Your bleeding." he told her. "But it'll be okay, the medics are on their way." He answered thinking that he heard the sound of sirens approaching. "They'll fix you up and it will be okay, trust me." He added looking momentarily at her wrist under his hand, which was still pressing the cloth as tightly against her sink as he could make it.

It again scared Reid when she confessed that she couldn't move her arms. What did that mean? That the blood was almost all drained out. She would pass out soon if that was the case. And when that happened she might not regain consciousness. "It'll be okay..." He muttered over and over again in a weak voice. He needed to believe that she was going to be okay. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if she did die. How would he be able to live with out her. He loved her. He didn't want to lose her now. There was no way he could let that happen. They had just meet not but a few months before. And he had only just realized his feelings for her. This was to soon.

"It's cold." her words went straight to Spencer's heart. He knew what she meant. He could see that she was fading fast. Tears filled his eyes again, where they cam from he wasn't sure. "Krys... Krys no, don't give in." He said frantically lifting one of his hands from her wrist and placing it under her chin to hold her head up. "Please don't do this.... not now... please." The next set of words were said in a complete daze, he barely knew he was saying them before they came out. "Krys, I love you. You can't die. I wouldn't let you. I love you! Please no!" Reid barely heard the paramedics enter the room. It wasn't until someone tried to pull Reid off of Krys that he realized they were there. And even then his mind wasn't working right. He struggled against the man's grip shouting that he wouldn't leave the one he loved. he watched as what seemed like a dozen people surrounded Krys blocking her from view. Reid was dragged into the bed room of the hotel room where the TV was still on. His eyes glued at the blood staining his hands, his cloths.

[Krys Robin]

A nap. Yes, a nap would be good right about now. All she saw was darkness as her head lulled to her chest. She felt light, like if she was released she would end up floating away like some sort of balloon. What an odd feeling and yet, in some ways it was a relief. There'd be no more hurting, no more worry, no more not being good enough and yet a part of her resisted, a part of her clung on to the one thing that made her want to stick around. The one who currently lifted her chin, all be it a little rough, but it was just what her body needed to reopen her eyes.

Though she was dazed and barely holding on she could see his face, a tad blurry but there never the less. But she heard his words. 'Love'. He said love! Had he really said it or was her brain playing tricks on her? No, this had to be real. It just had to be. Still feeling horribly tired she opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. All there was, was a loud humming in her ears that threatened to drain out everything else around her. No! Why now! Not now! Not when she had something to say and the courage to say it!

She knew what she wanted to say. It started with an 'I' and ended with a 'too' and somewhere there was a 'you' but the sounds just wouldn't come out. In a way this tired her out even more with frusteration but she pushed never the less. She had to say it! SHE HAD TO. And yet she just couldn't. And no sooner than hearing the words and making the eye contact with Spencer her head began to lull once more and her eyes drifted close appearing as though she was sleeping.

She could hear shouts in the distance, little did she know that they were Reid's. Men had surrounded her, some moving to pump her chest, others moving to address her wounds trying to make quick work of what would either end up saving her or killing her. Someone wheeled in a gurney and her limp, ragdoll form was lifted into the air and set ontop of it like some sort of offering. One of the medics shouted something to one of the men holding back Spencer Reid then looked back down at Krys.

'ey you.' The paramedic gave Krys' face a light slap so to stir her, which after a few attempts actually ended up working. Sometimes it was just the most simple thing that worked, especially with Krys Robin. 'There you are. Eyes open, alright? We need you to stay with us kay?' Blank eyes stared back at him, when he took this as a confirmation and went to work on her arms Krys' eyes began to close again. She always had a terrible attention span.

[Derek Morgan]

"Kiddo." Morgan repeated, continuing to rub the analyst's back, his eyes finding Reid's. Without words, the two agents knew just how bad this was. "That's you, Krys. Kiddo. You like that nickname? It's yours." He was working on autopilot, keeping pressure on her wrists. Her eyes were glazed, Morgan noted, and she was far too pale.

"I can't move my arms!"

He knew it was common - people who'd attempted suicide suddenly not being so sure about what they were doing. He could hear some of that panic in her voice now. "It's alright, kiddo. You don't need to move. Just take deep breaths and stay awake."

He was considerably calmer than his panicked counter part. Morgan, the one who would hit walls out of sheer anger was suddenly a calm machine of effeciency - perhaps because Reid was acting the total opposite. Perhaps it was from all his years on the bomb quad, where calm, quick efficiency was needed in emergency situations.

He heard the footsteps of incoming paramedics and backed up, still holding onto her wrists.

He only hoped that he'd done enough.