Close To The Vest
Written for: crimeland's Drabble Challenge.
...It wasn't for free, was it?!
The words echo in Derek's mind like a shot. They settle in his gut like stones. Cold, hard and strangely smooth. Swallowing them is never the hard part. It's living with the constant weight that threatens to take him down.
When it's over, he sees Hotch and Gideon and begs them not to say anything - not with his words - but with a look. Even then, Derek knows it won't make a damn bit of difference. They know. And now he'll be different to them because every time they look at him they'll see what was done to him. They'll pity him.
And pity is the last thing Derek wants.
As they walk out the door, Hotch and Gideon fall into step on either side of him. They don't speak. They don't try to touch him. They don't blame him for carrying his past so close to the vest. Don't ask questions that he can't answer. Don't comment on the tears in Derek's eyes, or the way he constantly has to swallow, because those damn stones are threatening to come up. The lies he has been fed, and believed, since he was a kid.
Somehow, walking with these guys, Derek knows. He could have trusted them with this.
Outside, he takes a breath in the chilly Chicago night.
He feels lighter. He can breathe.
Finally, he can breathe.
...It wasn't for free, was it?!
The words echo in Derek's mind like a shot. They settle in his gut like stones. Cold, hard and strangely smooth. Swallowing them is never the hard part. It's living with the constant weight that threatens to take him down.
When it's over, he sees Hotch and Gideon and begs them not to say anything - not with his words - but with a look. Even then, Derek knows it won't make a damn bit of difference. They know. And now he'll be different to them because every time they look at him they'll see what was done to him. They'll pity him.
And pity is the last thing Derek wants.
As they walk out the door, Hotch and Gideon fall into step on either side of him. They don't speak. They don't try to touch him. They don't blame him for carrying his past so close to the vest. Don't ask questions that he can't answer. Don't comment on the tears in Derek's eyes, or the way he constantly has to swallow, because those damn stones are threatening to come up. The lies he has been fed, and believed, since he was a kid.
Somehow, walking with these guys, Derek knows. He could have trusted them with this.
Outside, he takes a breath in the chilly Chicago night.
He feels lighter. He can breathe.
Finally, he can breathe.