Criminal Mind drabbles
Hotch fought to keep a straight face as his team gave the profile. He knew that this was a serious matter, the victims behind him numbering in the twenties, all made to suffer extended periods of torture. He tried to focus as the team started passing out suggestions on what to look for, but he still couldn’t shake the fact that Morgan’s fly had worked it’s way open and at least some, if not all the team had probably worked out that Morgan was wearing Superman boxers.
Hotch and Jack
Halloween was Hotch and Jack’s first major holiday without Hailey, and through the cookies, through the buying of the costumes, he couldn't stop himself from feeling guilty. If Hailey had still been around, Hotch wouldn’t be spending this much time with Jack. Now he took Jack shopping for candy to give out, and laughed as Jack pretended the pumpkin innards was alien slime. When these happy moments happened, Hotch wondered if he shouldn’t be mourning Haley more, if he even had the right to be happy when it was mostly his fault she died. His face would get serious, and Jack would look up at him and say “I still love you Dad.” And Hotch remembered why it was ok to smile.
Sleeping Reid
Spencer had hoped that staying with his mom would help with the dream. Even though she hadn’t truly taken care of him since he was 5, she still felt like his safe place. Even though she would forget who he was, or spend hours on end trapped in a world of her own creation, when she would sleep next to Spencer, she was just his mom, the person who kept night horrors away, who would jump up from sleep at the slightest threat of harm to her baby. So even though Spencer took the file to bed with him, he fell asleep gladly after the stressful days and horror plagued nights. When he woke up, tears were caught in his eyes and his stomach heaved. The nightmares were only getting worse.
Garcia
It was a look that Garcia liked to refer to as her “clothing horror” face. The one that said “Darling, I don’t know what you were thinking when you bought that shirt but you had better take it off in the next two minutes or else I am going to puke on your shoes.” She had directed this look at all of her team mates at least once in their working career together, some more than others. Even Morgan wasn’t free from her displeasure, though he really should have known better than to wear bellbottoms, retro party or not. This time though, her look was all for Dr. Reid.
“Honey, you can rock a scarf, but an asgot?”
“What’s wrong with asgots?”
“With a sweater vest?”
Garcia and JJ
Garcia was still shaken up after seeing someone die for the first time off a screen. Everyone else had already adjusted to the horror, but for a girl who tried more than anything to fill her life with happieness and colour felt like this unsub had invaded her privacy, sucked away a little bit of the happiness in her. So in an effort to lighten up her mood, she caught JJ’s eye and held it until JJ blinked, and Garcia hollered out her win. As soon as JJ realised she had lost, she demanded a rematch, then Morgan jumped in to play the looser, and after ten minutes of laughter and watery eyes with Hotch rising as the unexpected champion, Garcia felt like she had arrived home.
Rossi
Even after working with him for years, Reid could never tell when Rossi was actually sleeping. Rossi had a very irritating habit of seeming to nod off while people were speaking to him. The first time he had done it to Reid, Reid had been dissecting the workings of Jack the rippers brain, bouncing theories off of Rossi in some downtime at the station. He had being going through his experience with the female killer in New Orleans when he notices Rossi’s eyes were closed. Reid petered off, not sure whether he should feel offended or not when Rossi waved a hand for him to continue. After that, if Reid ever heard Rossi snore while he was talking, he decided not to mention it.
Garcia in the hospital
Derek couldn’t imagine life without Garcia. The ten minute drive over to the hospital was the worst ten minutes of his life. He couldn’t stop imagining Garcia’s blood, pumping out of her body. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she was on the table right now, or maybe they were even done with her, and he didn’t know if she was alive or not. If she was dead, and he missed saying goodbye because he was in church… but she was alive he got to the hospital, and seeing her later, in her hospital pyjamas, with her hair done up and one of her fabulous pair of glasses on her face, Derek finally let himself believe that she was going to be all right.
Reid
Reid knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Nathan as his. His responsibility, yes, but Nathan had come looking for Reid. He had wanted Reid, not Hotch, the leader whom everyone deffered too, not Gideon, the man who had vast amounts of wisdom to bestow, not JJ who handled requests for the teams time, but Reid. Even though Nathan only tried to contact him because he didn’t know about the others, it still felt nice to be the first choice. Now his hands were sticky with Nathans blood, and as the paramedics wrapped bandages around his wrist, Reid knew that the kid on the bed could end up killing multiple people in the future. Even so, Reid would save him again in a heartbeat.
The bullpen
Hotch felt strange walking into the bullpen. No mater how many times he saw her, Garcia's outfits always managed to catch him off guard. Hailey had always dressed in a plain fashion, and every other person he had ever worked with in his prosecuting job or his previous years at the BAU had dressed in suits. So walking out of his office to see Garcia looking like she stepped out of some cartoon to grace their grey world with some colour always made him pause. It didn’t help that she was standing next to Reid, who’s haircut and vest made him look like a sixteen year old boy band escapee.
Morgan and Reid
Morgan didn’t even like jell-o. You couldn’t really chew it, but you couldn’t drink it either, and it didn’t melt in your mouth like ice-cream. It gave him something to do though, and it was either the jell-o or the strange mass that could have been mashed potatoes if they weren’t grey in colour. Morgan was stuck shoveling odd shapes of wiggly syrup into his mouth because anything was better than just sitting there, watching, hoping, praying that Reid will wake up. If he would just open his eyes and tell Morgan that jell-o was enjoyed in 93% of all American households, maybe then Morgan would feel alright again.
Hotch and Jack
Halloween was Hotch and Jack’s first major holiday without Hailey, and through the cookies, through the buying of the costumes, he couldn't stop himself from feeling guilty. If Hailey had still been around, Hotch wouldn’t be spending this much time with Jack. Now he took Jack shopping for candy to give out, and laughed as Jack pretended the pumpkin innards was alien slime. When these happy moments happened, Hotch wondered if he shouldn’t be mourning Haley more, if he even had the right to be happy when it was mostly his fault she died. His face would get serious, and Jack would look up at him and say “I still love you Dad.” And Hotch remembered why it was ok to smile.
Sleeping Reid
Spencer had hoped that staying with his mom would help with the dream. Even though she hadn’t truly taken care of him since he was 5, she still felt like his safe place. Even though she would forget who he was, or spend hours on end trapped in a world of her own creation, when she would sleep next to Spencer, she was just his mom, the person who kept night horrors away, who would jump up from sleep at the slightest threat of harm to her baby. So even though Spencer took the file to bed with him, he fell asleep gladly after the stressful days and horror plagued nights. When he woke up, tears were caught in his eyes and his stomach heaved. The nightmares were only getting worse.
Garcia
It was a look that Garcia liked to refer to as her “clothing horror” face. The one that said “Darling, I don’t know what you were thinking when you bought that shirt but you had better take it off in the next two minutes or else I am going to puke on your shoes.” She had directed this look at all of her team mates at least once in their working career together, some more than others. Even Morgan wasn’t free from her displeasure, though he really should have known better than to wear bellbottoms, retro party or not. This time though, her look was all for Dr. Reid.
“Honey, you can rock a scarf, but an asgot?”
“What’s wrong with asgots?”
“With a sweater vest?”
Garcia and JJ
Garcia was still shaken up after seeing someone die for the first time off a screen. Everyone else had already adjusted to the horror, but for a girl who tried more than anything to fill her life with happieness and colour felt like this unsub had invaded her privacy, sucked away a little bit of the happiness in her. So in an effort to lighten up her mood, she caught JJ’s eye and held it until JJ blinked, and Garcia hollered out her win. As soon as JJ realised she had lost, she demanded a rematch, then Morgan jumped in to play the looser, and after ten minutes of laughter and watery eyes with Hotch rising as the unexpected champion, Garcia felt like she had arrived home.
Rossi
Even after working with him for years, Reid could never tell when Rossi was actually sleeping. Rossi had a very irritating habit of seeming to nod off while people were speaking to him. The first time he had done it to Reid, Reid had been dissecting the workings of Jack the rippers brain, bouncing theories off of Rossi in some downtime at the station. He had being going through his experience with the female killer in New Orleans when he notices Rossi’s eyes were closed. Reid petered off, not sure whether he should feel offended or not when Rossi waved a hand for him to continue. After that, if Reid ever heard Rossi snore while he was talking, he decided not to mention it.
Garcia in the hospital
Derek couldn’t imagine life without Garcia. The ten minute drive over to the hospital was the worst ten minutes of his life. He couldn’t stop imagining Garcia’s blood, pumping out of her body. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she was on the table right now, or maybe they were even done with her, and he didn’t know if she was alive or not. If she was dead, and he missed saying goodbye because he was in church… but she was alive he got to the hospital, and seeing her later, in her hospital pyjamas, with her hair done up and one of her fabulous pair of glasses on her face, Derek finally let himself believe that she was going to be all right.
Reid
Reid knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Nathan as his. His responsibility, yes, but Nathan had come looking for Reid. He had wanted Reid, not Hotch, the leader whom everyone deffered too, not Gideon, the man who had vast amounts of wisdom to bestow, not JJ who handled requests for the teams time, but Reid. Even though Nathan only tried to contact him because he didn’t know about the others, it still felt nice to be the first choice. Now his hands were sticky with Nathans blood, and as the paramedics wrapped bandages around his wrist, Reid knew that the kid on the bed could end up killing multiple people in the future. Even so, Reid would save him again in a heartbeat.
The bullpen
Hotch felt strange walking into the bullpen. No mater how many times he saw her, Garcia's outfits always managed to catch him off guard. Hailey had always dressed in a plain fashion, and every other person he had ever worked with in his prosecuting job or his previous years at the BAU had dressed in suits. So walking out of his office to see Garcia looking like she stepped out of some cartoon to grace their grey world with some colour always made him pause. It didn’t help that she was standing next to Reid, who’s haircut and vest made him look like a sixteen year old boy band escapee.
Morgan and Reid
Morgan didn’t even like jell-o. You couldn’t really chew it, but you couldn’t drink it either, and it didn’t melt in your mouth like ice-cream. It gave him something to do though, and it was either the jell-o or the strange mass that could have been mashed potatoes if they weren’t grey in colour. Morgan was stuck shoveling odd shapes of wiggly syrup into his mouth because anything was better than just sitting there, watching, hoping, praying that Reid will wake up. If he would just open his eyes and tell Morgan that jell-o was enjoyed in 93% of all American households, maybe then Morgan would feel alright again.