Not Your Typical Event

Luka’s POV

“I’m in shock, I’ll last longer than him. Why won’t you listen to me ?” I demanded to know. We were in the ambulance now, and the paramedic introduced himself as Jim, and the FBI sir introduced himself as well, as SSA Aaron Hotchner. Jim had to ask Agent Hotchner to drive, because he needed to tend to me. My head was throbbing as he mopped the blood off of it. He then inserted an IV drip, and placed an oxygen mask over my face. We sped toward the hospital, and I fought the urge to laugh. You know when something unexpected happens, or a situation in which everyone around you is really serious, and you just stop and think, and want to laugh, just to relieve the pressure ? I quickly sobered though, as I thought of my cousin. He was my guardian ever since my parents had died four years ago, when I was eleven. If he didn’t survive this, I didn’t know what I had in this world anymore…

“What is your name ?” Jim enunciated to me, getting right in my face. “Luka Sommers. The shock hasn’t worn off you know, I’m not incompetent just yet,” I told him, taking off my oxygen mask. Jim replaced the mask quickly, and I rolled my eyes. When we arrived at the hospital, Agent Hotchner jumped out and opened the doors. A trauma team was waiting for me. I felt like I was on a hospital drama as I was rushed down the hall by a team of doctors, with a neck brace on, looking up at the bright fluorescent lights as they flashed by.

My gurney was rolled into a secluded room, with no other occupants. A team of two doctors and a nurse worked over me, inserting IV’s checking blood pressure, taking and recording my pulse. Someone must have pushed a lot of morphine into my system, because I drifted into a blurred, hazy state.

I woke up and blinked strongly, jumping at the sight of people seated around my bed. ‘Ahggg !” Was the jumbled sound that escaped my mouth after seeing them. I scooted the opposite way in my bed, away from the strangers. One, I recognized as Agent Hotchner, but the other two, I vaguely remembered seeing, but not being introduced to.

The three men were all very good looking, one was tall, dark, handsome and muscular, with mocha-colored, expressive eyes. The other was the complete opposite, still tall, but with chin length, messy hair, and he was thin almost to the point of an emaciated look. He had big, childlike hazel eyes, and was dressed rather nerdily. I found him to be adorable. “Sorry to scare you,” The muscular man told me, patting my hand. “This is SSA Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid,” Agent Hotchner told me, pointing first to the big guy, then to the guy with long hair. Dr. Reid gave a little wave, and Agent Morgan gave me a sympathetic smile. I laughed, a delirious-sounding chuckle. “Wow,” I said, looking down at my IV drip. “They gave me a lot of morphine !” I felt high on the drugs, a sensation I had never experienced until now. They looked at me with concern as I laughed. “I need you to be serious,” Hotchner told me, whom I’m convinced doesn’t know how to be anything other than serious. Turning to him, SSA Morgan said, “Hotch, don’t you think she should rest ? She almost died, after all.” He ignored him, instead turning to me,” What did the driver of the other car look like ? His appearance is very important to our case-file.” I sobered up quickly. “He had a really defined jaw-line, and he had spiky blonde hair, and….brown eyes. He was smiling, his front teeth were crooked, and his car was a big, white SUV. The seat-covers they were…..blue. Blue with like, white detailing…” They all stared at me, open-mouthed. “You’re um….observant.” Dr. Reid said. “Yeah….” I said, confused on why they were all looking at me with the same expression, like I was some kind of alien life form. Abruptly, Agent Hotchner left the room. “He’s rude.” I commented to the two remaining agents. “Gets what he wants then gets the hell out. Geez. It’s not like I almost joined Elvis or anything…” “He’s just doing his job. Hang in there kiddo,” Agent Morgan told me, leaving the room as well. Thankfully, sexy Dr. Reid stayed.

I fiddled with my IV, until Reid’s big hand stopped mine from playing with it. I rolled my eyes, scanning the room for my chart. It was conviently located on the other side of my bed, on the cheap, white plastic nightstand to my left. I pulled it onto my lap, scanning it for my prognosis; a severe concussion, two broken ribs, a cut requiring stitches on my forearm, and a small laceration on my forehead. “What are you doing ?” Dr. Reid asked me, sounding slightly alarmed. “Reading my chart…no one told me what my injuries were, so I got it covered. Chill.” He gave me the same puzzled look I had come to expect from him. “I don’t understand you at all,” he told me. “You shouldn’t be so….calm, so collected. You shouldn’t be able to remember the accident so well…..do you remember the accident ? ” he questioned me, but didn’t pause for an answer. “You shouldn’t…know things that you know…” he seemed at a loss for words to summarize the list of things that I should not be doing, and I had a feeling that was uncharacteristic for him. Also, it was probably a safe bet that it was unusual for him to be associating so personally with a victim, and his utter confusion was most likely unlike him as well. It was ironic to be sitting next to a profiler, profiling him. “What happened to Mark ?!” I finally asked, the question I had been dying to spit out. Just then, the doctor entered the room, and Agent Reid left awkwardly, slowly backing out of the room. The doctor asked me how I was feeling, and I couldn’t help but reply dryly, “Like I’ve been hit by a car.” He chuckled, then checked my vitals. He pulled up a chair beside me, and before I could inquire about my cousin, he looked at me sadly. “Your cousin, Mark. He’s…..well, he’s been paralyzed by the accident.” I detected the hidden meaning in the grief of his words; Mark was my legal guardian. Being paralyzed deemed him an unfit caretaker; I was now essentially an orphan.