Criminal Minds, Morgan/Reid
Title: and he spirals
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Word Count: 2000
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reid, after Tobias and after Gideon. For dancinbutterfly.
If nothing else, waiting for Reid was helping Derek get caught up on his overdue paperwork. He finished a case write up and shot it off to Hotch, before pulling up the next in line. In the desk across from him, Reid sat abnormally still. Derek snuck another glance at him and saw that he was rereading the note Gideon had left him again, even though that genius brain of his had it memorized after the first time.
They whole team took Gideon’s disappearing act hard, but Reid had it the worst. Gideon knew that would happen, of course he did, because why else would he have addressed the note to Reid?
On one hand, Derek understood why Gideon did it. This job takes something from you, something you never get back when you’re done. To do it as long as Gideon had, and to be as good at it as Gideon was, well. Add the guilt of losing Sarah, and Derek sympathized with Gideon’s need to take off and not look back.
He reminded himself of that as he watched the slumped line of Reid’s back, the way his hands had started shaking again, for the first time in almost six months.
Derek double-checked the case number for the next report on his list and tapped the code into the right spot on the form with a stifled sigh. There was a reason he had a backlog of reports a mile long. He wasn’t a deskwork kind of guy, and he didn’t even have Elle around anymore to help him out.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” Reid said suddenly, startling Derek.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek said, studiously not looking away from his computer screen.
“Morgan, come on,” Reid said. “I think you’ve finished more reports in the last week than you have in the three years we’ve worked together. Also, on average you leave here at seven thirty-four every night, and you’ve been staying well past ten since Monday.”
Derek turned to look at Reid then, his mouth quirking. “How’d you get seven thirty-four?”
“Oh, um. I calculated it in my head,” Reid answered, giving Derek a look that said he didn’t see anything strange about that.
Derek snorted, feeling a surge of affection for Reid’s big, genius brain. “Of course you did.”
A ghost of a smile slid across Reid’s face, there and gone in an instant. He tapped a staccato rhythm against his desk and swallowed thickly before he began, “Do you think…”
“What?” Derek asked, trying not to sound too eager for the opening he’d been looking for. “What?”
Reid shook his head. “Nothing.”
Derek fisted a hand against his thigh and tamped down on his frustration. “If you want to talk…”
“I’m fine.”
“Reid,” Derek said, some of his annoyance bleeding into his voice despite his best efforts.
“I’m fine,” Reid repeated.
“Look, we’re all pretty torn up about Gideon,” Derek said.
“Right,” Reid said. He shifted to face his computer screen, turning his back to Derek.
“I know it must…” Derek continued, not letting Reid’s dismissal put him off. “I know what you’re thinking.”
The tapping returned - a dull, uneven sound that was loud in the empty room. “Of course you do,” Reid said. He laughed, sharp and jagged. “You’re a profiler, and I have textbook abandonment issues. Every person in this office knows what I’m thinking. The hazards of the job, right?”
“He didn’t leave you,” Derek said. “He didn’t leave because of you.”
“No, no. They never do. My father left because of my mother, and my mother left because of the schizophrenia. I’m just collateral damage.” The pen between Reid’s fingers clattered to the ground. “Shit.”
Derek watched him slip off of his chair in that gangly, elegant way he had about him and scoop the pen off the floor.
“Look,” Derek said, staring at Reid’s back, his long, disheveled hair and brown sweater with the sleeves rolled up to above pointy elbows. “I’m sorry if I pissed you off…”
“You didn’t,” Reid said quickly. “You didn’t do anything. I’m just…you know. I’m tired. It’s almost eleven and we have to be back here at seven, and. I think I’m gonna head home.”
“I can give you a ride,” Derek offered.
“I’d rather take the train,” Reid said. “Be alone with my thoughts.”
“Seems like that’s your biggest problem,” Derek said, and bit his cheek to avoid asking again. Reid looked half a second from making a break for it, and Derek didn’t want to scare him.
Reid laughed, palming the back of his neck and ducking his head awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. But it helps calm me down when it isn’t making me crazy.”
“I get that,” Derek conceded. Give him a room full of people, a case of Corona and a Bears game on television, and that was usually enough to chase the demons away. Derek imagined, though, that when you were smarter than ninety-nine percent of the people you came across, your own mind could be the most relaxing place available.
“Well.” Reid lifted his bag off the ground and pulled the strap over his head to lie across his chest. “I’m going to the bathroom and then I’m heading out. Good night.”
Reid walked away and Derek felt something hard settle in his chest. “Going to the bathroom with your bag?” he muttered. Before Henkel, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but before Henkel there wouldn’t have been anything to think about. Now all Derek can see is the Reid of the last few months - the guy who showed up to work late and looking like he’d gone ten rounds with a brick wall.
Without even realizing he’d moved, Derek was halfway across the office when he bumped into someone.
“Hey there, stallion,” Garcia purred, looking him up and down in her playfully flirting manner, “where’s the fire? Not that I mind the skin on skin contact, of course.” Her grin faltered as she took in his expression. “Oh god, there’s not actually a fire, is there?”
“No, baby girl, nothing like that. Just trying to find Reid,” he said.
“Ah,” she replied, a look of understanding passing over his features. “How’s he holding up?”
“As well as you think,” Derek said.
“That bad, huh? Poor guy,” she said.
He looked around the empty hallway, and then back at her. ”What are you still doing here anyway?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Online Canasta. I totally kicked ass tonight. Lost track of time.”
“Canasta?” Derek asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
“Shut up,” Garcia said. “My mom taught me how to play.”
“Sure she did,” Derek teased. He smiled, an instinctual reaction to Garcia’s presence, before his concern from a moment ago returned.
Garcia pushed at his shoulder. “Go,” she said. “Find him.”
“It’s just…” Derek began, but was cut off by Garcia raising her hand.
“I know what it is,” she said. Derek looked down at her sharply, but all she did was smile, soft and kind. “I think you guys are rubbing off on me. I’m getting better at this profiling thing.”
“Pretty soon we’ll get you out from behind that desk and into the field,” Derek said.
Garcia put her hands out in front of her, as she backed away from Derek and headed towards the elevators. “Oh no. No, no, no thank you. No. No.”
“So that’s a ‘no’ then?” he asked.
“Did I say ‘no’? Sorry, I meant ‘hell no,’” she replied.
Derek shook his head fondly. “Good night, Garcia,” he said.
“Night,” she answered. “And Derek?” He turned around and saw her holding the elevator doors open with her arm. “Take care of him, okay?”
Derek shrugged and didn’t answer. He couldn’t promise that.
*
“You don’t trust me to go to the bathroom alone now?” Reid asked.
He had his hands clenched on either side of the sink, and water dripped from the sharp point of his chin. Derek tried to be casual about the way he checked his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.
“I have to take a leak.”
“Please,” Reid scoffed. “I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”
“Going to the bathroom?” Derek asked.
“Listen, Morgan. I’m not your kid brother, okay?”
“I don’t think that,” Derek said, swallowing a hysterical laugh at the very idea.
“I’m not your responsibility,” Reid continued. “I’m not one of your boys from the community center.”
Derek’s hands balled into fists at his side. “You better watch what you say, man. I’m well aware of what you’re not, but I also know what you are. You’re a member of my team and, more importantly, you’re my friend, Reid. I can’t ignore it when you’re in here…”
“Don’t,” Reid warned and Derek stopped.
He couldn’t say it out loud, none of them could. Saying it out loud was admitting there was a problem, and would make Derek responsible for telling IA. The team was walking a fine line, Hotch especially, but they did what they had to for one of their own. For Reid. Sometimes Derek wondered if they were making the right choice by turning a blind eye. Sure Reid would keep his job, but at what cost?
“You think I’m weak,” Reid said. “You always have. You think I’m incapable in a fight, a liability.”
“Excuse me?” Derek said, incredulous. “That is not true. I want you covering my back.”
“If there’s no one else,” Reid said. “If Hotch or Prentiss or JJ or, or…” He let out a shaky breath. “Gideon. If they aren’t there, then sure, you’ll settle for me.”
Derek narrowed his eyes but forced himself not to speak. He saw Reid’s game for what it was, defensive posturing to deflect attention from the real issue. There was a steady, throbbing pain in his palms now, from his nails digging into the skin, and he focused on that instead.
“I’m the freak with the mismatched socks and the ticking time bomb inside of his brain just waiting to go off.” Reid ran a hand through his lank hair. “Don’t patronize me, Morgan; it’s beneath you.”
Finally, Derek snapped. Unclenching his hands, he took two big steps towards Reid, grabbed his face in both hands and crashed their lips together for one long moment. When he pulled away, he looked at Reid’s startled face, his skin pale and paper-thin.
“Don’t try to tell me what I’m doing,” Derek panted.
Reid watched him, unmoving, and then he surged forward and Derek found himself with his back against the light blue tiled walls, Reid’s slick tongue pushing into his mouth. Derek buried a hand in Reid’s hair and held on while Reid kissed him, frenzied and desperate.
They kissed for several minutes, until Reid pulled away, practically flying across the room.
“Hey,” Derek said, reaching a hand out and taking an aborted half step towards him.
Reid shook his head and scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t do this right now.”
Derek felt himself flinch, but ducked his head to hide it. “No, it’s cool.”
“I just. I need to leave,” Reid said, sounding apologetic.
“I could drive you,” Derek tried again.
“Thanks, but I think the ride will be good for me.”
“Time to be alone with your thoughts,” Derek said.
“Yeah,” Reid said. “So.” He turned, his movements jerky, and walked out of the bathroom.
Derek watched him leave and then cursed before whirling around and punching the wall.
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Word Count: 2000
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reid, after Tobias and after Gideon. For dancinbutterfly.
If nothing else, waiting for Reid was helping Derek get caught up on his overdue paperwork. He finished a case write up and shot it off to Hotch, before pulling up the next in line. In the desk across from him, Reid sat abnormally still. Derek snuck another glance at him and saw that he was rereading the note Gideon had left him again, even though that genius brain of his had it memorized after the first time.
They whole team took Gideon’s disappearing act hard, but Reid had it the worst. Gideon knew that would happen, of course he did, because why else would he have addressed the note to Reid?
On one hand, Derek understood why Gideon did it. This job takes something from you, something you never get back when you’re done. To do it as long as Gideon had, and to be as good at it as Gideon was, well. Add the guilt of losing Sarah, and Derek sympathized with Gideon’s need to take off and not look back.
He reminded himself of that as he watched the slumped line of Reid’s back, the way his hands had started shaking again, for the first time in almost six months.
Derek double-checked the case number for the next report on his list and tapped the code into the right spot on the form with a stifled sigh. There was a reason he had a backlog of reports a mile long. He wasn’t a deskwork kind of guy, and he didn’t even have Elle around anymore to help him out.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” Reid said suddenly, startling Derek.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek said, studiously not looking away from his computer screen.
“Morgan, come on,” Reid said. “I think you’ve finished more reports in the last week than you have in the three years we’ve worked together. Also, on average you leave here at seven thirty-four every night, and you’ve been staying well past ten since Monday.”
Derek turned to look at Reid then, his mouth quirking. “How’d you get seven thirty-four?”
“Oh, um. I calculated it in my head,” Reid answered, giving Derek a look that said he didn’t see anything strange about that.
Derek snorted, feeling a surge of affection for Reid’s big, genius brain. “Of course you did.”
A ghost of a smile slid across Reid’s face, there and gone in an instant. He tapped a staccato rhythm against his desk and swallowed thickly before he began, “Do you think…”
“What?” Derek asked, trying not to sound too eager for the opening he’d been looking for. “What?”
Reid shook his head. “Nothing.”
Derek fisted a hand against his thigh and tamped down on his frustration. “If you want to talk…”
“I’m fine.”
“Reid,” Derek said, some of his annoyance bleeding into his voice despite his best efforts.
“I’m fine,” Reid repeated.
“Look, we’re all pretty torn up about Gideon,” Derek said.
“Right,” Reid said. He shifted to face his computer screen, turning his back to Derek.
“I know it must…” Derek continued, not letting Reid’s dismissal put him off. “I know what you’re thinking.”
The tapping returned - a dull, uneven sound that was loud in the empty room. “Of course you do,” Reid said. He laughed, sharp and jagged. “You’re a profiler, and I have textbook abandonment issues. Every person in this office knows what I’m thinking. The hazards of the job, right?”
“He didn’t leave you,” Derek said. “He didn’t leave because of you.”
“No, no. They never do. My father left because of my mother, and my mother left because of the schizophrenia. I’m just collateral damage.” The pen between Reid’s fingers clattered to the ground. “Shit.”
Derek watched him slip off of his chair in that gangly, elegant way he had about him and scoop the pen off the floor.
“Look,” Derek said, staring at Reid’s back, his long, disheveled hair and brown sweater with the sleeves rolled up to above pointy elbows. “I’m sorry if I pissed you off…”
“You didn’t,” Reid said quickly. “You didn’t do anything. I’m just…you know. I’m tired. It’s almost eleven and we have to be back here at seven, and. I think I’m gonna head home.”
“I can give you a ride,” Derek offered.
“I’d rather take the train,” Reid said. “Be alone with my thoughts.”
“Seems like that’s your biggest problem,” Derek said, and bit his cheek to avoid asking again. Reid looked half a second from making a break for it, and Derek didn’t want to scare him.
Reid laughed, palming the back of his neck and ducking his head awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. But it helps calm me down when it isn’t making me crazy.”
“I get that,” Derek conceded. Give him a room full of people, a case of Corona and a Bears game on television, and that was usually enough to chase the demons away. Derek imagined, though, that when you were smarter than ninety-nine percent of the people you came across, your own mind could be the most relaxing place available.
“Well.” Reid lifted his bag off the ground and pulled the strap over his head to lie across his chest. “I’m going to the bathroom and then I’m heading out. Good night.”
Reid walked away and Derek felt something hard settle in his chest. “Going to the bathroom with your bag?” he muttered. Before Henkel, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but before Henkel there wouldn’t have been anything to think about. Now all Derek can see is the Reid of the last few months - the guy who showed up to work late and looking like he’d gone ten rounds with a brick wall.
Without even realizing he’d moved, Derek was halfway across the office when he bumped into someone.
“Hey there, stallion,” Garcia purred, looking him up and down in her playfully flirting manner, “where’s the fire? Not that I mind the skin on skin contact, of course.” Her grin faltered as she took in his expression. “Oh god, there’s not actually a fire, is there?”
“No, baby girl, nothing like that. Just trying to find Reid,” he said.
“Ah,” she replied, a look of understanding passing over his features. “How’s he holding up?”
“As well as you think,” Derek said.
“That bad, huh? Poor guy,” she said.
He looked around the empty hallway, and then back at her. ”What are you still doing here anyway?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Online Canasta. I totally kicked ass tonight. Lost track of time.”
“Canasta?” Derek asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
“Shut up,” Garcia said. “My mom taught me how to play.”
“Sure she did,” Derek teased. He smiled, an instinctual reaction to Garcia’s presence, before his concern from a moment ago returned.
Garcia pushed at his shoulder. “Go,” she said. “Find him.”
“It’s just…” Derek began, but was cut off by Garcia raising her hand.
“I know what it is,” she said. Derek looked down at her sharply, but all she did was smile, soft and kind. “I think you guys are rubbing off on me. I’m getting better at this profiling thing.”
“Pretty soon we’ll get you out from behind that desk and into the field,” Derek said.
Garcia put her hands out in front of her, as she backed away from Derek and headed towards the elevators. “Oh no. No, no, no thank you. No. No.”
“So that’s a ‘no’ then?” he asked.
“Did I say ‘no’? Sorry, I meant ‘hell no,’” she replied.
Derek shook his head fondly. “Good night, Garcia,” he said.
“Night,” she answered. “And Derek?” He turned around and saw her holding the elevator doors open with her arm. “Take care of him, okay?”
Derek shrugged and didn’t answer. He couldn’t promise that.
*
“You don’t trust me to go to the bathroom alone now?” Reid asked.
He had his hands clenched on either side of the sink, and water dripped from the sharp point of his chin. Derek tried to be casual about the way he checked his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.
“I have to take a leak.”
“Please,” Reid scoffed. “I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”
“Going to the bathroom?” Derek asked.
“Listen, Morgan. I’m not your kid brother, okay?”
“I don’t think that,” Derek said, swallowing a hysterical laugh at the very idea.
“I’m not your responsibility,” Reid continued. “I’m not one of your boys from the community center.”
Derek’s hands balled into fists at his side. “You better watch what you say, man. I’m well aware of what you’re not, but I also know what you are. You’re a member of my team and, more importantly, you’re my friend, Reid. I can’t ignore it when you’re in here…”
“Don’t,” Reid warned and Derek stopped.
He couldn’t say it out loud, none of them could. Saying it out loud was admitting there was a problem, and would make Derek responsible for telling IA. The team was walking a fine line, Hotch especially, but they did what they had to for one of their own. For Reid. Sometimes Derek wondered if they were making the right choice by turning a blind eye. Sure Reid would keep his job, but at what cost?
“You think I’m weak,” Reid said. “You always have. You think I’m incapable in a fight, a liability.”
“Excuse me?” Derek said, incredulous. “That is not true. I want you covering my back.”
“If there’s no one else,” Reid said. “If Hotch or Prentiss or JJ or, or…” He let out a shaky breath. “Gideon. If they aren’t there, then sure, you’ll settle for me.”
Derek narrowed his eyes but forced himself not to speak. He saw Reid’s game for what it was, defensive posturing to deflect attention from the real issue. There was a steady, throbbing pain in his palms now, from his nails digging into the skin, and he focused on that instead.
“I’m the freak with the mismatched socks and the ticking time bomb inside of his brain just waiting to go off.” Reid ran a hand through his lank hair. “Don’t patronize me, Morgan; it’s beneath you.”
Finally, Derek snapped. Unclenching his hands, he took two big steps towards Reid, grabbed his face in both hands and crashed their lips together for one long moment. When he pulled away, he looked at Reid’s startled face, his skin pale and paper-thin.
“Don’t try to tell me what I’m doing,” Derek panted.
Reid watched him, unmoving, and then he surged forward and Derek found himself with his back against the light blue tiled walls, Reid’s slick tongue pushing into his mouth. Derek buried a hand in Reid’s hair and held on while Reid kissed him, frenzied and desperate.
They kissed for several minutes, until Reid pulled away, practically flying across the room.
“Hey,” Derek said, reaching a hand out and taking an aborted half step towards him.
Reid shook his head and scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t do this right now.”
Derek felt himself flinch, but ducked his head to hide it. “No, it’s cool.”
“I just. I need to leave,” Reid said, sounding apologetic.
“I could drive you,” Derek tried again.
“Thanks, but I think the ride will be good for me.”
“Time to be alone with your thoughts,” Derek said.
“Yeah,” Reid said. “So.” He turned, his movements jerky, and walked out of the bathroom.
Derek watched him leave and then cursed before whirling around and punching the wall.