Fic: Come Daylight 14
Title: Come Daylight [14/?]
Author: wanderingjasper
Rating: FRT
Characters: Morgan/Reid, ensemble, Ethan
Word Count: 3051
Themes: Fluff, romance, life!angst, 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. Previous chapters: here.
Summary: The team have been placing bets, Reid meets with an old friend, and has an accident.
“When you hold a grudge, you want someone else’s sorrow to reflect your level of hurt but the two rarely meet.” - Steve Maraboli
At thirty one weeks pregnant, Reid had been through almost eight months of pregnancy, and was fast approaching a time when it would be inconceivable for him to work, so he was relishing every moment. Even though he was ready to move on, it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to miss the work he did at the BAU. The team had reacted to the news that both of them would be leaving much as expected; with bittersweet congratulations. The week before Christmas, everyone was piled under paperwork, in the hopes it would be done before their few scheduled days off for the holiday.
“You’ve got a pool going?” Reid asked, as Prentiss passed him a file.
“Yeah,” she shrugged.
“What are you betting on, exactly?”
“Sex,” JJ piped up, “whether you follow BAU tradition and have a boy, or the Morgan family’s tradition and have a girl.”
“I wouldn’t call the genetic probability of the sex of offspring ‘tradition’.”
“Whatever. Me, Prentiss and Garcia are in on a BAU boy, Rossi, Hotch, and Seaver say it’ll be a girl.”
“Nobody put their money on an intersex infant, then? Intersex conditions obvious enough to require the opinion of a specialist occur in up to one in two thousand births.”
“Really?” Garcia looked interested. “Dunno if those odds are high enough to put money on, though.”
“What else?”
“Well Rossi lost his money saying you’d have a natural birth,” JJ explained, and Rossi gave Reid a mock-annoyed look. “And the people who think you’ll drop before your delivery date have money on what day.”
“Am I exempt from this pool?”
“Yes!” Garcia said as if it was obvious. “What if you bet on a drop date and then eat a bunch of spicy foods to take all our money?”
“Labour is started when the fetus releases certain hormones, and although eating spicy food is a very common method of trying to induce labour, it’s not documented to be that effective.”
“Still,” Rossi shrugged.
“Have you heard about this?” Reid asked as Morgan came into the bullpen with a stack of files.
“What?”
“The betting pool,” Prentiss grinned.
“Oh, yeah,” Morgan waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not allowed to bet, apparently.”
“Me either. I don’t think it’s fair you guys can make money from this while I swell like a balloon.”
“We bought you shower presents,” Garcia teased.
As the team chuckled, Morgan put his hands on Reid’s shoulders as leaned down to kiss the top of his head.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured. Reid gave a contented hum in response, turning his face to rest his lips against Morgan’s fingers. He’d noticed the upswing in public affection that Morgan gave and that Reid found himself happy to receive and even initiate, and their team hadn’t made mention of. He relished Morgan’s increasingly tactile work conduct, from the little brushes of fingertips over his belly, hands on the small of his back when they were stood together, and chaste kisses when nobody was paying them much attention. But while his team had the good sense to ask before initiating any considerable contact - and Garcia did almost daily to have a feel of his belly - the increase in unwanted touching from strangers was something that had gone straight to the top if Reid’s problems with pregnancy. Everyone seemed to want to touch his belly, and a lot of people didn’t even seem to think they had to ask.
Presently Hotch passed through the bullpen, paying no mind to one of his agents hugging the other from behind, and called them into the round table room to start the case briefing.
---
Between socks, a laminated wood floor, and a centre of gravity he wasn’t used to, Reid knew it was going to happen. For a few seconds he felt like time slowed, and he calculated where he was going to land, and then it happened; feet jerked out from under him and he went down, he hit the floor hard, his back, shoulders and head in quick succession, and his body creased with pain. He whimpered, and pained tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes became something more very quickly, because as much as he knew that a fall was not actually as dramatic and risky to a pregnancy as television would have people believe, panic flared up immediately. Something like this couldn’t happen now, not when he’d come so far. The lights on the Christmas tree nearby splintered through his teary vision.
Clooney came rushing in to Reid’s sounds of distress, sniffing around and then trying to lick at the man’s face.
“Clooney,” he moaned as his back quaked with pain, and he clutched at his belly with one hand as the other tried to push the dog away from his face. “Get Derek,” he said, even though he knew the dog didn’t understand. “Fuck!” he gasped, the base of his spine where it had hit the floor spasming with pain.
Clooney hurried off whether on command or of his own initiative, and Reid could hear him barking out in the back garden, where Morgan was. He tried to roll onto his side to start getting up, but it hurt and he could feel his hot tears falling over his temple. As soon as he heard Morgan’s footsteps on the kitchen tile, he called out.
“Derek!”
“Spencer?” He hurried through at the sound of Reid’s shout. “Spencer!” Reid was still, the pain easing as Morgan knelt down next to him, Clooney barking with panic at his heel.
“I fell,” he said.
“Should I call an ambulance?”
“No,” Reid groaned, breath hitching slightly. “I’m okay.”
“But you fell.”
“You’re crying.”
“It hurt.”
“So I should call for-”
“Derek, I’m fine, just help me up.”
Morgan took hold of him, helping him to ease himself onto his side, onto his knees and then to his feet. He helped him over the couch and sat him down again, while Clooney jumped up and tried to lick at his face.
“Clooney!” Morgan pushed him away, as Reid wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, the other stroking circles on his belly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“You can call the doctor if you want,” Reid said calmly, even though his voice still shook a little, “but she’s only going to tell you that I need to watch for spot bleeding and irregular pain.”
“Are you bleeding?” Morgan asked, his phone in his hand.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Reid said, starting to feel annoyed.
“You haven’t checked,” Morgan said, looking quite obviously downwards.
“Are you serious?”
“Spencer, you need to check. Spotting isn’t always enough that you can feel-”
“Derek,” he huffed. “I’m fine. The fetus doesn’t seem distressed.”
“You fell onto hard wood, Spencer.”
“Fine!” He snapped, flaring at Morgan with all the fierceness he could muster through the residual pain and worry. Morgan gave him the benefit of looking apologetic as Reid unceremoniously thrust his hand down the back of the loose pyjama pants he was wearing. He drew his hand out a few seconds later and offered it up for inspection, no blood in sight. Morgan noticeably relaxed, and Reid himself felt something loosen in his chest.
“I’m still going to call,” Morgan said, “just to see what she says.”
Reid signed and nodded, and started to slowly get to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Morgan asked, looking worried again.
“To wash my hands. I’ve just been touching my ass, and not in a fun sexy way.”
His tone wasn’t too annoyed, and Morgan offered him a small reassuring smile as he turned away to use his phone. Reid went through to the kitchen to wash his hands, and then braced his forearms on the sink, dipped his head and slowly exhaled through his nose. His back still throbbed with pain from the fall, and the last of his panic was leaving him. Despite knowing that a fall wasn’t actually that dangerous to a fetus after it was well cushioned at fourteen weeks, at this far along it could have triggered preterm labour. Trauma could also cause placental abruption, which could cause fetal distress and even death.
By the time he went back into the living room Morgan was off the phone, and looked up at the sound of his footfalls.
“She said that if you experience any spotting to take you in as an emergency patient. I’ll call Hotch, tell him you’re not coming in tomorrow.”
“Derek,” Reid said warningly, taking him by the wrist and dragging him onto the sofa with him. “You’re being overprotective. It’s not that endearing. I want to go to work; I haven’t got that long left.”
“Sorry,” Morgan murmured, cuddling up against Reid’s side and running his hand over his swollen belly. “The fall gave me a scare.”
“Me too,” Reid said honestly. He leaned into Morgan, smiling as his husband’s hand moved like he was searching for movement. “The fetus isn’t moving a lot right now, for once.”
Morgan’s hand continued to stroke his belly though, as Reid leaned in to seek out a kiss. Morgan hummed appreciatively, returning the kiss in kind. His hand made its way up Reid’s torso and the column of his neck to cradle his face.
“Early labour is not the kind of Christmas surprise we need. You sure you’re okay?” he said against the man’s lips, between little kisses.
“I promise. If I didn’t feel okay I’d tell you. I don’t want anything to go wrong either, Derek.”
“But it’s not going to, right? Like you said, a fall isn’t that dangerous.”
“C’mon,” Reid murmured, “you can give me a look over. Look after me like I know you want to.”
Reid knew that sex would ease their minds and comfort them both, but he still registered how tightly Morgan held him as he pulled him close for a kiss.
---
“You’re huge.”
“Hello to you too,” Reid smiled at Ethan, but decided not to stand to greet him. His back and his legs hurt, even if he had driven to meet his old friend for lunch while he was in town. Ethan settled down in the seat opposite.
“It’s been a while, man,” he offered. “You really are big.”
“Pregnancy tends to do that.”
“How far gone are you?” Ethan asked, his brow furrowed as he peered at Reid’s stomach on the other side of the table, the sweater vest tight over the size of him.
“Thirty two weeks.”
“So you’re gonna be popping out a kid any time now.”
“In around two months,” Reid corrected. He noticed how intense Ethan’s gaze remained as they ordered coffee, and knew the man was studying him.
“You quit work yet?” Ethan asked, folding his arms on the table and huffing in a way that seemed like he was bored. “I mean you can’t go on being a super profiler when you’re the size of a house. Or a hippo.” Ethan gave an easy laugh, but it came just a second too late to flow right.
“I’m not set to leave for another month,” he explained. “Thirty six weeks is about the time most people go on leave, and I can’t fly after that.”
“Probably best. Your hormones probably don’t help your profiling.”
Reid frowned, but Ethan didn’t even seem to register his friend’s confusion, and then his focus switched to the server bringing them their coffees.
“Decaf, I guess?” Ethan said as Reid spooned three sugars into his.
“I can have one small cup of regular coffee a day, but excess caffeine can prove a risk to a fetus, and I like to ration my caffeine intake for soda, so I switched to decaf early in my pregnancy.”
“What are you doing after you drop the kid? Don’t tell me you’re gonna be a barefoot in the kitchen husband.” Ethan laughed again, and nothing about it felt good natured.
“Ethan, what’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“You’re being strange.”
“Oh, I’m being strange?”
“Yes.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“What? Why?” Reid asked.
“C’mon, Reid,” Ethan gave a huff of a laugh. “Look at you. You’re the size of a small planet.”
“What the hell, Ethan? You’re being like this because I’m fat?”
“I’m being like this because you’re pregnant. You! I mean how in the hell did you end up pregnant? When we were together you said you never wanted to have babies. You said you’d never get married, that it was a dead institution. You said all that even though you knew I wanted that with you, back when we were young and stupid. And look at you now, you got stupider; married and knocked up with a pumped-up jock’s spawn-”
“Don’t you dare drag Derek into whatever problem you’ve got, Ethan.”
“He is part of the problem, Reid. What has he turned you into? You’re Spencer Reid, genius, and you’re pregnant and quitting your dream job.”
“Dreams change,” Reid said.
“So what, now you’re dreaming of being a daddy? You? You can’t even shake people’s hands, Reid! How are you going to handle a clingy little baby? Kids cry when they see you. You can’t even call it a baby.”
“It’s not a baby, it’s a fetus.”
“It’s a fucking baby, Reid!”
“While it’s still in-utero it’s a fetus, Ethan! Or did you fail high school biology?”
“You can’t even call it a baby!” He repeated, as people started to cast side-glances at their slightly raised voices. “What the hell are you going to do once it arrives? What kind of parent are you going to be?”
“You don’t know me anymore Ethan,” Reid said, his voice a dangerous hiss. “You haven’t known me for years. I’m not the same person you knew. I’ve changed, grown. You should try it, instead of going on a tirade about my life choices. I am happy. So happy, Ethan. And excited! I’m excited to be a parent, I’m excited to start something new. You need to deal with that if you want anything to do with me in the future.”
Without looking away, Reid pushed himself up from the table, careful not to make any sound of effort. He put down a few dollars for his untouched coffee, and Ethan looked up at him with measured contempt.
“Call me when you’ve got over whatever this is.”
“Yeah,” Ethan’s lip curled in a little sneer, “and you call me when you realise what a big mistake you’ve made and you want to escape from your hum-drum life.”
---
“Spence?” Morgan asked, following the sound of keys being deposited loudly in the draw in the table in the hallway. “That was quick. How did lunch go?”
“It didn’t,” Reid murmured, meeting his husband’s eyes briefly. It was enough for Morgan to read him, and he surged forward and pulled Reid into an embrace. Reid buried his face in Morgan’s neck and let the built up frustration and anger manifest as tears. After a few moments Morgan led Reid into the living room and onto the sofa.
“What happened?” Morgan’s voice was gentle, and his hands stroked soothingly over his back and arm, letting him rest his head on his shoulder.
“He said some stuff,” he mumbled.
“What stuff?”
“He talked about when we were together, how I said I never wanted to have kids or get married. I got the impression he thought I was doing it all just to make you happy.”
“Doesn’t he know you asked me to marry you?” Morgan gave a soft laugh, and kissed the man’s forehead.
“He doesn’t know anything. He said he thought I was going to be a bad parent.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“What if he’s right? What if I’m not?”
“Baby, you know it’s going to be fine. You know you can look after kids; you were great with Henry when he was small. And we’re both going to be learning as we go along. You know this.”
“Yeah,” Reid huffed. “Ethan is meant to be my friend. I thought he’d be happy for me.” Fresh tears leaked out, and he was way past the point of drawing attention to his hormones each time he ended up crying, which was with a much higher frequency than pre-pregnancy. “I just wanted him to be happy for me. And he called you a pumped-up jock.”
“Well, he’s never been a fan of mine. I know he’s your friend, but if he can’t be happy for you then you don’t need him.”
“Do you think other people think that too? That I’m not going to be a good parent?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s our child, all that matters is you and me.”
Reid took a long breath in through his nose, closed his eyes and exhaled. “I know.”
“Screw anyone who thinks we’re not going to be amazing. We’re leaving our jobs to give this kid the best start we can. The nursery is ready, we’ve got diapers and formula, we’ve been to classes.” He paused as he combed his fingers through his lover’s hair. “We even tried out that breast pump.”
“You mean you tried the breast pump.”
“Well you’re not meant to pump before you give birth, and we still had to figure out how it worked. Maybe we should buy a spare for our own adult-time use, it wasn’t that bad.”
Reid snorted with laughter, pushing playfully at Morgan’s chest. He drew back and Morgan framed his face with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away the last of his husband’s tears. He gently pulled his face forward and kissed his forehead.
“We are going to be okay,” Morgan said gently. “You and me, pretty boy. Soon, you and me and a pretty baby.”
As Reid smiled at him and rested his forehead against his, he believed him completely.
“Before, I wanted to say: "I found love!" But now, I want to say: "I found a person. And he belongs to me and I belong to him.” - C. JoyBell C.