H/C Bingo: Triggered
Title: Triggered
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Prompt: Nightmares for hc_bingo
Medium: fic
Wordcount: 686
Rating: R
Warnings: mentions of rape and sexual/child abuse
Summary: Morgan wakes up from a nightmare. Morgan/Reid
This is not the first time it’s happened and probably not the last; not that it happens a lot. In the two years they’ve been living together, Reid can count the number of nightmares Morgan has had on his hands.
Morgan’s not special in his nightmares. He’s the superhero FBI agent during the day, but at night, when the nightmares hit, he’s just another person. They’re triggered by cases with sexual abuse victims or children; they’re triggered by anything from cans of Old Style to fishing to football plays. He wakes up drenched in sweat, he’s always disoriented, he’s usually crying or dry heaving, and he wants nothing to do with Reid’s comfort until he’s woken up completely and has his bearings. He won’t sleep for days after and Reid finds himself covering his lover with a blanket when he finally crashes on the couch. He’s always afraid that if he wakes him, he won’t go back to sleep. So he lets him crash on the couch and wake up with a crick in his neck just so he’ll return to bed the next night.
This night is no different, but tonight they’re not at home. They’re in Morgan’s childhood room. Reid’s awoken by a sharp elbow jab to the back. The whimpering alerts him to Derek’s state.
“Derek,” he murmurs groggily, but he can still hear sobs emanating from the form, “Derek, love, wake up, please, wake up.”
It always seems harder to pull a person out of a nightmare than a regular dream, and maybe that’s because the nightmares always seem like they’re really happening. Morgan has gone from his usual sprawl to a tight fetal position. His confusion and fear are obvious in his eyes and posture as he glances frantically around the room. His sobs are just getting worse and Reid aches for him, but he doesn’t touch because he knows that touching makes the crying worse.
“Morgan,” he shouts, sternly, and Morgan’s body jolts, “It’s over. He can’t get you anymore. You’re an FBI agent and he’s in jail.”
Derek is still shaking, but he has stopped crying and his breathing is beginning to regulate. Morgan sits up and pulls his knees to his chest and his head between his knees. They sit there side-by-side for a few minutes, before Morgan reaches out for Reid’s hand. Reid squeezes it tightly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Reid asks softly.
“Spence, it’s the usual deal; a re-play of what that son of a bitch did to me,” he sighs.
“And if it will help, I’ll listen a million more times,” Reid replies; Morgan smiles and kisses his hand.
“He’s ruined a lot for me; I won’t let him ruin us.”
“He could never do that.”
“I know,” Morgan returns, but his belief doesn’t reach his eyes. Reid kisses his hand in reassurance and a small, genuine smile appears. Reid never wants to hear about it, but his lover needs the release and he’s not a selfish person, so he listens, “Sometimes, it’s never things I expected or plan for that trigger the damn memories. Today, it was a goddamn clip of an ’85 Bears game while I was watching the game with the guys. Usually, they just play Super Bowl clips, but no today they showed a clip of the fucking only loss of that season.” He pauses now, and takes a deep breath. He shudders, “Watching that game was the first time Buford got me so fucking drunk I couldn’t function and after pushed me down on the bed and told me I wanted it.”
Morgan’s sobs have started again and Reid tentatively reaches for him. Morgan lunges at him and buries his face in Reid’s collar. Reid runs a calming hand up and down Morgan’s back and cups the back of his head with long, nimble fingers.
When his sobs subside, Morgan looks up at Reid, cups his cheek, and says, “Thank you, Pretty Boy.” Morgan kisses him them; it’s soft and tentative. Reid returns the gentle kiss and rubs a bony knuckle over Derek’s still damp cheek.
“Always.”
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Prompt: Nightmares for hc_bingo
Medium: fic
Wordcount: 686
Rating: R
Warnings: mentions of rape and sexual/child abuse
Summary: Morgan wakes up from a nightmare. Morgan/Reid
This is not the first time it’s happened and probably not the last; not that it happens a lot. In the two years they’ve been living together, Reid can count the number of nightmares Morgan has had on his hands.
Morgan’s not special in his nightmares. He’s the superhero FBI agent during the day, but at night, when the nightmares hit, he’s just another person. They’re triggered by cases with sexual abuse victims or children; they’re triggered by anything from cans of Old Style to fishing to football plays. He wakes up drenched in sweat, he’s always disoriented, he’s usually crying or dry heaving, and he wants nothing to do with Reid’s comfort until he’s woken up completely and has his bearings. He won’t sleep for days after and Reid finds himself covering his lover with a blanket when he finally crashes on the couch. He’s always afraid that if he wakes him, he won’t go back to sleep. So he lets him crash on the couch and wake up with a crick in his neck just so he’ll return to bed the next night.
This night is no different, but tonight they’re not at home. They’re in Morgan’s childhood room. Reid’s awoken by a sharp elbow jab to the back. The whimpering alerts him to Derek’s state.
“Derek,” he murmurs groggily, but he can still hear sobs emanating from the form, “Derek, love, wake up, please, wake up.”
It always seems harder to pull a person out of a nightmare than a regular dream, and maybe that’s because the nightmares always seem like they’re really happening. Morgan has gone from his usual sprawl to a tight fetal position. His confusion and fear are obvious in his eyes and posture as he glances frantically around the room. His sobs are just getting worse and Reid aches for him, but he doesn’t touch because he knows that touching makes the crying worse.
“Morgan,” he shouts, sternly, and Morgan’s body jolts, “It’s over. He can’t get you anymore. You’re an FBI agent and he’s in jail.”
Derek is still shaking, but he has stopped crying and his breathing is beginning to regulate. Morgan sits up and pulls his knees to his chest and his head between his knees. They sit there side-by-side for a few minutes, before Morgan reaches out for Reid’s hand. Reid squeezes it tightly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Reid asks softly.
“Spence, it’s the usual deal; a re-play of what that son of a bitch did to me,” he sighs.
“And if it will help, I’ll listen a million more times,” Reid replies; Morgan smiles and kisses his hand.
“He’s ruined a lot for me; I won’t let him ruin us.”
“He could never do that.”
“I know,” Morgan returns, but his belief doesn’t reach his eyes. Reid kisses his hand in reassurance and a small, genuine smile appears. Reid never wants to hear about it, but his lover needs the release and he’s not a selfish person, so he listens, “Sometimes, it’s never things I expected or plan for that trigger the damn memories. Today, it was a goddamn clip of an ’85 Bears game while I was watching the game with the guys. Usually, they just play Super Bowl clips, but no today they showed a clip of the fucking only loss of that season.” He pauses now, and takes a deep breath. He shudders, “Watching that game was the first time Buford got me so fucking drunk I couldn’t function and after pushed me down on the bed and told me I wanted it.”
Morgan’s sobs have started again and Reid tentatively reaches for him. Morgan lunges at him and buries his face in Reid’s collar. Reid runs a calming hand up and down Morgan’s back and cups the back of his head with long, nimble fingers.
When his sobs subside, Morgan looks up at Reid, cups his cheek, and says, “Thank you, Pretty Boy.” Morgan kisses him them; it’s soft and tentative. Reid returns the gentle kiss and rubs a bony knuckle over Derek’s still damp cheek.
“Always.”