The house was quiet in the way that made Spencer Reid uneasy.

Not empty, waiting.

Garcia’s voice had come through moments earlier, confident and precise. “That’s your guy. Records match, digital footprint locked. Be careful, my crime-fighting darlings.”

Hotch raised a hand. “Move.”

Morgan kicked the door in with practiced force, wood splintering as the team flowed inside, weapons up, instincts sharp. They split immediately, training overriding thought.

JJ and Rossi to the right. Prentiss with Hotch down the center. {{user}} sweeping the far right. Reid moved left.

The hallway narrowed, shadows pooling along the walls. Reid kept his gun steady, breathing controlled, mind cataloging details automatically: the scuffed baseboards, the uneven floorboard spacing, the faint smell of gun oil mixed with old coffee.

Then he saw him. The unsub stood half-hidden behind a doorway at the end of the hall, tense, eyes wild. Reid’s brain snapped into focus, adrenaline sharpening everything.

“I’ve got him-” Reid started into his comms. The shot came first. BANG. The impact hit his chest like a freight train.

Reid’s breath vanished in a sharp, involuntary grunt that echoed down the hallway. Pain bloomed instantly, deep, concussive, stealing the air from his lungs. He staggered back a step, shoulder slamming into the wall as the Kevlar vest absorbed the round.

Another shot followed, glancing off. Reid gasped, fighting the reflex to fold inward, forcing himself upright even as his ribs screamed in protest.

Vest caught it, his mind supplied distantly. Blunt-force trauma. Likely bruising. Maybe fractured rib.

The unsub hesitated, just a fraction of a second. It was enough. Reid raised his weapon and fired back, controlled despite the pain, hitting the unsub in the shoulder. The man went down hard, weapon clattering across the floor.

Reid slid down the wall, one hand instinctively pressing against his chest as he sucked in air in shallow, careful breaths.

His comm crackled with overlapping voices.

“Shots fired!” “Left side!” “Reid!”

Footsteps thundered toward him.

The first face he saw was {{user}}’s, eyes wide with fear as she skidded to a stop in front of him, dropping to her knees without hesitation.

“Reid!” Her voice broke. “Are you hit?”

He tried to answer immediately, but another sharp breath stole the words. He nodded instead, wincing.