Packing up [fic]
Title: Packing up
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: G
Character(s): Morgan, Hotch
Word Count: 340
Summary: Post Profiler, profiled. There's something that needs said.
A/N: First Criminal minds fic.
The minute they get back to Quantico Morgan hits the showers. There’s something on his skin, heavy and sweaty and suffocating and he wants it off now.
He goes through to the locker room to dress after and Hotch is there, changing to cycle home. He’s going about it slowly, like he’s holding off leaving and - shit. Morgan would be pissed, but there is something that he needs to say, and something he could do with hearing in return. Better now than dragging it all up again a couple of weeks from now.
“I - ” Hotch just looks at him, one of those looks that you just have to look away from unless you happen to be Gideon. Morgan chooses a patch of wall by Hotch’s knee to focus on instead. “I could’ve said “no”.”
Hotch nods. Morgan doesn’t see it - he just knows. “You could have.” he agrees in that unassuming monotone he uses as he unfolds the darkest secrets of the human mind and unfolds them for all to see. “You could have shoved him away and told him no. You could have punched him when he got too close. He’d have done it anyway.”
Morgan risks a look, just in time to see a crack in marble, shame and fear and regret, a glimpse of Aaron that’s usually hidden under the suit and tie and the gun and the stern expression. Then it closes up again and Hotch is back (albeit in cycling shorts) standing up and pulling his gloves on. After a moment’s consideration he rests a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “It’s over now. Don’t waste your time with this.”
He grabs his helmet off the bench and walks out. Morgan waits a beat before he sits down and rubs his eyes.
The next day someone’s cutting up college boys in Odessa, Texas and the race begins again. Only Hotch pauses to ask in passing “Are you alright?”
And after this long in the BAU it’s a no brainer. There’s work to be done. “I’m fine.”
Author: shadowbyrd
Rating: G
Character(s): Morgan, Hotch
Word Count: 340
Summary: Post Profiler, profiled. There's something that needs said.
A/N: First Criminal minds fic.
The minute they get back to Quantico Morgan hits the showers. There’s something on his skin, heavy and sweaty and suffocating and he wants it off now.
He goes through to the locker room to dress after and Hotch is there, changing to cycle home. He’s going about it slowly, like he’s holding off leaving and - shit. Morgan would be pissed, but there is something that he needs to say, and something he could do with hearing in return. Better now than dragging it all up again a couple of weeks from now.
“I - ” Hotch just looks at him, one of those looks that you just have to look away from unless you happen to be Gideon. Morgan chooses a patch of wall by Hotch’s knee to focus on instead. “I could’ve said “no”.”
Hotch nods. Morgan doesn’t see it - he just knows. “You could have.” he agrees in that unassuming monotone he uses as he unfolds the darkest secrets of the human mind and unfolds them for all to see. “You could have shoved him away and told him no. You could have punched him when he got too close. He’d have done it anyway.”
Morgan risks a look, just in time to see a crack in marble, shame and fear and regret, a glimpse of Aaron that’s usually hidden under the suit and tie and the gun and the stern expression. Then it closes up again and Hotch is back (albeit in cycling shorts) standing up and pulling his gloves on. After a moment’s consideration he rests a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “It’s over now. Don’t waste your time with this.”
He grabs his helmet off the bench and walks out. Morgan waits a beat before he sits down and rubs his eyes.
The next day someone’s cutting up college boys in Odessa, Texas and the race begins again. Only Hotch pauses to ask in passing “Are you alright?”
And after this long in the BAU it’s a no brainer. There’s work to be done. “I’m fine.”