Fic: Come Daylight 3/? [Criminal Minds]
Title: Come Daylight [3/?]
Author: wanderingjasper
Rating: FRT
Characters: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 1964
Themes: Fluff, romance, life!angst.
Warnings: Mpreg.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but I do take liberties with them for no financial gain.
Notes: AU, unrelated to other fics, features Mpreg. A gift fic for my wifey Evo.
Summary: How will Morgan react to the news, and to Reid's delay?
“Growth is the only evidence of life.” - John Henry Newman
Four days after the second test, when Spencer had accepted he was indeed pregnant, he was still trying to work out why he hadn’t told his husband, instead of just telling him. The nights were the most confusing times; after Derek was asleep, more than once he found his fingers going to his stomach. It didn’t make much sense; he was having no physical symptoms of pregnancy besides the nausea which was so mild he hadn’t even vomited so far; an instinct to protect or hold his belly was illogical without physical swelling of his abdomen. But still, when his mind was distracted, he would come out of a thought and realise his fingers were turning small circles on his stomach.
Derek, of course, had noticed him not getting as much sleep as usual. Spencer had been able to pass it off as mild insomnia; plausible, because they both cycled through stages of it periodically. It seemed to be a side effect of their work, the information they dealt with every day.
The dark man shifted in his sleep, just lucid enough to wrap his arm around the lighter’s middle. Reid quickly moved his hand away so the other wouldn’t notice it had been lingering there, and actively kept from tensing as Morgan’s warm fingers spread out across his flat stomach. That was often where his hand rested of a night, and even though it was such a small gesture it always made Spencer feel safe, but now the effect was magnified. He closed his eyes and settled back into the curve of his lover’s shape, trying to put out of his mind that he was keeping the information of his condition from him, that he was fearful of telling him for reason he didn’t understand. He hadn’t even included this development in his letters to his mother.
---
It was not the first time Morgan had waited by an unconscious Spencer Reid’s hospital bedside. It was not the first time he had feared their job might cost the life of the man he loved. It was not the first time things had miraculously turned out much better than anticipated. Spencer was going to be fine.
That didn’t make replaying the memory of the day any easier for Derek. Going into a scene with guns raised, they hadn’t anticipated the second unsub hiding with a plank of wood he’d pried from a window of the old factory, and Derek hadn’t been quick enough to subdue him before he’d swung wildly at Reid, who was closest, and caught him at the back of his skull. There had been a loud crack and a pained yelp and Reid had gone down, unconscious before he hit the ground. Both unsubs had been subdued as Prentiss had pulled Reid out of there. Morgan had fought his first reaction to take him in his arms and run to safety with him, instead slamming the unsub to the ground and handcuffing him roughly, knowing that was actually the option more likely to protect his husband and his team from further attacks.
When he’d got out of the factory and shoved the unsub directly into the waiting custody of local police, Reid was conscious again and sitting at the back of an ambulance, with a paramedic examining the back of his head. He’d groggily insisted he was fine and tried to stand, only to promptly pass out again, this time with his husband there to catch him.
Two hours, a visit to the emergency room, lots of tests and a diagnosis of a mild concussion later, Reid had been told to rest until he was discharged. As soon as he’d laid down on the bed he’s fallen asleep. The team had checked in but Derek had insisted it was fine for them to go home; he’d managed to convince everyone to do so and then he waited, flicking through the small album of photos of them he kept on his phone.
A photo with the whole team at Seaver’s graduation, smiling around the newest addition to their team. A picture of them kissing at their wedding, in Vegas so Spencer’s mother could be at the ceremony. A candid portrait shot of Spencer in bed, stretched out like a sleepy cat in the morning light, eyes half-lidded as he grinned lazily at the camera, and only them knowing it was because they’d just made love. Derek and Penelope in a pose mocking the famous Titanic bow scene behind a railing at a theme park.
Happy memories he poured over as he reminded himself that despite how worried Spencer and hospitals made him, they were going to have plenty of time to make more memories. He was going to be fine.
Absently Derek lifted the medical chart from the container at the foot of the bed, flipping open the cover. None of the information was new; they knew everything about each other, medical history included. The doctor’s handwriting was awful though, he thought as he looked through the notes; dates and times, comments and abbreviations, results of the examination and blood tests, and -
50-52 days pregnant (7 weeks). [ATC/SO]
Reid couldn’t be pregnant. There was no way; they were both on hormonal birth control injections every three months. They had been for almost seven years since they’d decided they didn’t want to use condoms any more. Their birth control had a 99% success rate, and with both of them on it, it was almost impossible that they’d have this happen. Almost impossible. Almost.
Morgan closed the chart quickly, stuffing it back in its place at the end of the bed, and stared at the sleeping form of his husband.
---
Light and pain.
Spencer groaned, unable to understand why a migraine had manifested without any warning. There was always an aura of warning a few days before. The memory formed quickly in his consciousness; he remembered the scene, the unsubs, the splitting pain as the wood had connected with his head. The aftermath, the tests, the antiseptic smell of hospital. He pried his eyes open, raising a hand to rub over his face as he blinked his husband into focus. Derek was smiling reassuringly at him from a chair beside the bed.
“Hey pretty boy.” He said softly.
“Hey.” Spencer mirrored.
“How you feeling, b- how’s your head?” Morgan faltered. Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to call the man ‘baby’ right then.
“Sore.” He said, pushing himself up. “Can we go home yet?”
“The doctor said he’d be back in a while. They’re just waiting for the results of your MRI. They don’t think there’ll be any issues.” Derek said. Reid nodded, rolling his shoulders forward. “Spencer.”
“Mm?”
“Did you know you’re seven weeks pregnant?”
Reid blinked a few time, tongue coming out to wet his lower lip.
“Yes.” He admitted, his gaze falling from his partner’s.
“How long have you known?”
“A week.”
“But...” Derek shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know.” Spencer muttered.
“Spencer, you...” Morgan shook his head to himself, “you said you didn’t ever want to be pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me when you suspected? Or when you found out? We could have... what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” He repeated, looking at his finger in his lap.
“Do you want to abort?” he asked evenly. “We both want to adopt. You want to.”
“I know. I do want to adopt.” Reid nodded.
“Then why did you wait so long to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?” Derek asked, trying to keep his voice even. “You know you wouldn’t have to have an abortion in secret. I’d be there for you. Why did you hide this?”
“I don’t know.” Reid repeated. “I don’t know, Derek!” he raised his gaze. “I think I... I know I said I didn’t want to carry a pregnancy. And I don’t. I mean - I’m freaking out at the thought that something is growing in me, but...”
“But what, honey?” Derek pressed.
“I think... I think I’m already forming emotional attachments to the embryo. There’s debate on paternal attachment, whether it’s learnt or instinctual, but there’s good evidence to suggest emotional attachments form during pregnancy in higher mammals as an incentive for a carrier to bear the burden of a pregnancy for so long. It’s not the longest mammal gestation; that’s the African elephant, with an average gestation period of 660 days, twenty two months, which...” he trailed off, noting the patient but distracted look on his lover’s face.
“Are you saying,” Derek said slowly “you want to keep it?”
“I know you said you’re not ready to be a parent.” Reid said, picking at his sleeve. “We can terminate the pregnancy, and put off parenthood until we’re ready.”
“Spencer,” Morgan furrowed his brow, “you said you were attached.”
“I know,” he nodded, “but it’s just an embryo, there are really no valid moral concerns about terminating this early, and an embryo at this stage hasn’t even begun developing a central nervous system or umbilical cord, and it’s less than twenty millimetres-”
“You’re talking about aborting-” Morgan tried, keeping his voice calm even though his confusion was palatable.
“It’s not aborting,” Reid corrected, “Abortion is a natural process, the word is incorrectly attributed to medical termination of pregnancy-”
“Reid.” Derek said firmly. “You’re talking about terminating a pregnancy you’re emotionally attached to, because I said I’m not ready?”
“Yes.” The man nodded.
“You’re-” Morgan almost said ‘crazy’, but he knew how much Reid detested words to do with non-neurotypicality being thrown around instead of used properly, and he stopped himself. “Forget what I said. Forget me not being ready.”
“Derek...” Reid said uneasily, big eyes wide and shining at him.
“If you want to do this, so do I. I don’t care how we have a child, I just want it to be a way we’re both happy.” He explained cautiously. “If you want to go through with this, I’ll be ready. We’ll be ready.”
Reid smiled softly at his husband. Derek pushed himself up out of the chair, but didn’t move forward.
“Spencer,” he prompted, “what do you want to do?”
“I want to incubate this embryo,” He said, gripping at his knee nervously, “so it can develop into a fetus, and eventually successfully give birth to a...” he trailed off, awkwardness creeping into his smile. Derek waited patiently, dark eyes still as they looked at him, face neutral. “Our offspring. A... a baby.”
“Our offspring.” Derek broke into a smile, a chuckle rising out of him. The declaration was so very Spencer, but definitely a confirmation. “Our baby, Spence.”
Finally he moved forward, and he realised the other man had been waiting for it, because as soon as he wrapped his arms around Spencer’s middle the lithe man clamped his hands around the older man’s chest, nuzzling into his shape. Derek kissed the top of his head, stroking along his back with the flat of his palm.
“I’m sorry.” Spencer said.
“Hmm?”
“For not telling you. I’m sorry. I felt... I didn’t understand.”
“It’s okay.” Morgan soothed. “We’ve both felt like that before; realised we wanted something we thought we never would.” He remembered how he’d felt when he first realised he was having feelings for Reid. “And you can still change your mind.”
“Really?” Reid asked, not pulling away.
“Of course. It’s your body. You shouldn’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” Spencer whispered, closing his eyes and hugging the man he loved tighter.
“We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves.” - Lynn Hall