You Can Run On For A Long Time [3/4]
Title: You Can Run on for A Long Time [3/4]
Author: icky_crane
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings:None.
Summary: Everyone has their views on life. Not everyone has the same view. This is the case between Morgan and Reid when the topic of sexuality is brought up.
Disclaimer: Pure, Ungodly, Fiction.
I
II
You Can Run On For a Long Time
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When one got down to it, really inspected the human body, it was nothing more than a contradiction. Or at least that was how Spencer felt about it. The human body was designed to protect us, and it did, it did protect us. But it also failed us in the end, did it not? In youth your hair shines in the light, but then as you age it looses all it's glamor and gloss. Nails once strong grow weak and brittle, breaking. Skin once rejuvenating and exuberant begins to tear and bruise. Bones begin to weaken, decreasing till they are nothing more than a memory. Everyone died at some point, and Spencer feared that this was his time to go.
He never imagined it would happen this way, though. Spencer was notorious for ignoring his stomachs wants and needs for the majority of the time. It figured that the moment he decided to take a break, travel down the road to some off-route dinner for something to fill his stomach would prove to be his downfall. Spencer was tired. Tired of everyone and everything; even himself. Spencer wanted a warm cheese sandwich and something hot to drink to help the knots coiled in the pit of his stomach. Hotch had warned the other agent not to go, that it was not safe; Spencer ignored his worrying. Ignored the news that played on a loop at the hotel, advising and frightening the guests of the horrid weather they were in for. Spencer promised he would be back in less than ten minutes. Spencer knew now that that wasn't going to be the case anymore. The sky seemed to fall, and the old couple who owned the place couldn't keep the grimacing looks from their worn down features. If Spencer Reid had learned anything while doing this job, it was that locals knew best.
“Son, I think you should get in the back with us,” the man in his mid to late fifties cautioned, and so Spencer followed. There were a total of eight people in the dinner including Spencer. The couple who owned it, their son and his friend Bobby who were the only cooks, and three other people who had chosen the wrong time to stop by for a meal. The wind, once a high-pitched whistle now began to grow deeper, taunting. Nature was taunting them, urging them to be afraid. Then there came a sound Spencer knew was the beginning of the end, a sound that came across as a train tracking down high speed ahead. Spencer had read about that sound, heard stories from tornado survivors who, just before it hit, heard the same haunting tone.
“Head between your knees! Keep your head between your knees!” Spencer couldn't tell who was screaming that warning, for all he knew it could have been himself. All Spencer did know as the noise grew louder, closer...all he could think about was Derek. Derek, and how he had missed his last chance to make things right between them, how it was just too late...for everything, but if he could tell the other man anything, just one thing...it would be the truth. The truth that Spencer loved him, and he did love Derek. With everything he had, and even if the other man could never reciprocate in the way he wanted, their friendship was just that important to try and save, and he hadn't. He'd let Derek down, and now he was going to die.
There was a sudden burst of glass, screams emerging from men and women of all ages and social classes as the sharp shards flew everywhere. They huddled closer together, holding on to each other for some form of support. Spencer could only tuck his head further into his chest, nearly suffocating himself as he fought for each breath. Slender arms wrapping around his head, digging into the mess of his hair as he began to cry silently. This was it.
The ceiling caved in a fraction of a second later.
---
Derek had just finished a lengthy workout. In fact, he wouldn't consider it much of a workout as much as he would a form of punishing himself. Powerful body aching with each forced move, lungs heaving in as much air as they could possibly take in. Sweat drenching his tee-shirt as he discarded the now adhesive material. Closing the door to his house, kicking off his running shoes as his dog Clooney greeted him warmly. Derek looked down at the dog thoughtfully, wishing he could great the animal in the same manner.
Derek's voice-mail was beeping, red light indicating to him that he had three missed messages. Derek hit play lazily with his finger, moving into his kitchen to grab a bottle of water, downing it in less than three minutes before grabbing another one. His mother's soft voice invaded every inch of his house, reminding Derek that he needed to be in Chicago by next Friday for his sister Sarah's birthday. The second message was his mother again, reminding him to bring the digital camera this time and that he needed to call her back or else she would whoop him. The third message came on....and Derek knew the moment he heard Garcia's voice that something terribly wrong had happened. Tentatively he approached the machine, waiting as her voice quivered in and out.
“Morgan, sugar, honey...I've...I've got some bad news...” Derek could hear the tears in her eyes as she spoke, his heart sinking into his stomach as he felt sick.
“Derek, there was a F5 tornado that hit Alma this afternoon...Hotch he's really hurt, really hurt....and...and Derek, they can't find Reid's body. Sweetie, I tried calling you...I...the team, we need you. I need you right now, Morgan.” This had to be some sick joke, it had to be. Derek's legs gave out beneath him. That couldn't be right. It just couldn't be, but Garcia would never lie to him. Not about that. Not about Reid. He couldn't breathe. He just couldn't. Cradling his head in his trembling hands.
“God, please no...please no!”
Author: icky_crane
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings:None.
Summary: Everyone has their views on life. Not everyone has the same view. This is the case between Morgan and Reid when the topic of sexuality is brought up.
Disclaimer: Pure, Ungodly, Fiction.
I
II
You Can Run On For a Long Time
---
When one got down to it, really inspected the human body, it was nothing more than a contradiction. Or at least that was how Spencer felt about it. The human body was designed to protect us, and it did, it did protect us. But it also failed us in the end, did it not? In youth your hair shines in the light, but then as you age it looses all it's glamor and gloss. Nails once strong grow weak and brittle, breaking. Skin once rejuvenating and exuberant begins to tear and bruise. Bones begin to weaken, decreasing till they are nothing more than a memory. Everyone died at some point, and Spencer feared that this was his time to go.
He never imagined it would happen this way, though. Spencer was notorious for ignoring his stomachs wants and needs for the majority of the time. It figured that the moment he decided to take a break, travel down the road to some off-route dinner for something to fill his stomach would prove to be his downfall. Spencer was tired. Tired of everyone and everything; even himself. Spencer wanted a warm cheese sandwich and something hot to drink to help the knots coiled in the pit of his stomach. Hotch had warned the other agent not to go, that it was not safe; Spencer ignored his worrying. Ignored the news that played on a loop at the hotel, advising and frightening the guests of the horrid weather they were in for. Spencer promised he would be back in less than ten minutes. Spencer knew now that that wasn't going to be the case anymore. The sky seemed to fall, and the old couple who owned the place couldn't keep the grimacing looks from their worn down features. If Spencer Reid had learned anything while doing this job, it was that locals knew best.
“Son, I think you should get in the back with us,” the man in his mid to late fifties cautioned, and so Spencer followed. There were a total of eight people in the dinner including Spencer. The couple who owned it, their son and his friend Bobby who were the only cooks, and three other people who had chosen the wrong time to stop by for a meal. The wind, once a high-pitched whistle now began to grow deeper, taunting. Nature was taunting them, urging them to be afraid. Then there came a sound Spencer knew was the beginning of the end, a sound that came across as a train tracking down high speed ahead. Spencer had read about that sound, heard stories from tornado survivors who, just before it hit, heard the same haunting tone.
“Head between your knees! Keep your head between your knees!” Spencer couldn't tell who was screaming that warning, for all he knew it could have been himself. All Spencer did know as the noise grew louder, closer...all he could think about was Derek. Derek, and how he had missed his last chance to make things right between them, how it was just too late...for everything, but if he could tell the other man anything, just one thing...it would be the truth. The truth that Spencer loved him, and he did love Derek. With everything he had, and even if the other man could never reciprocate in the way he wanted, their friendship was just that important to try and save, and he hadn't. He'd let Derek down, and now he was going to die.
There was a sudden burst of glass, screams emerging from men and women of all ages and social classes as the sharp shards flew everywhere. They huddled closer together, holding on to each other for some form of support. Spencer could only tuck his head further into his chest, nearly suffocating himself as he fought for each breath. Slender arms wrapping around his head, digging into the mess of his hair as he began to cry silently. This was it.
The ceiling caved in a fraction of a second later.
---
Derek had just finished a lengthy workout. In fact, he wouldn't consider it much of a workout as much as he would a form of punishing himself. Powerful body aching with each forced move, lungs heaving in as much air as they could possibly take in. Sweat drenching his tee-shirt as he discarded the now adhesive material. Closing the door to his house, kicking off his running shoes as his dog Clooney greeted him warmly. Derek looked down at the dog thoughtfully, wishing he could great the animal in the same manner.
Derek's voice-mail was beeping, red light indicating to him that he had three missed messages. Derek hit play lazily with his finger, moving into his kitchen to grab a bottle of water, downing it in less than three minutes before grabbing another one. His mother's soft voice invaded every inch of his house, reminding Derek that he needed to be in Chicago by next Friday for his sister Sarah's birthday. The second message was his mother again, reminding him to bring the digital camera this time and that he needed to call her back or else she would whoop him. The third message came on....and Derek knew the moment he heard Garcia's voice that something terribly wrong had happened. Tentatively he approached the machine, waiting as her voice quivered in and out.
“Morgan, sugar, honey...I've...I've got some bad news...” Derek could hear the tears in her eyes as she spoke, his heart sinking into his stomach as he felt sick.
“Derek, there was a F5 tornado that hit Alma this afternoon...Hotch he's really hurt, really hurt....and...and Derek, they can't find Reid's body. Sweetie, I tried calling you...I...the team, we need you. I need you right now, Morgan.” This had to be some sick joke, it had to be. Derek's legs gave out beneath him. That couldn't be right. It just couldn't be, but Garcia would never lie to him. Not about that. Not about Reid. He couldn't breathe. He just couldn't. Cradling his head in his trembling hands.
“God, please no...please no!”