Fic: "The Faraday Case" (Criminal Minds)
Title: [13/?] The Faraday Case
Author/Artist: colourmebipolar
Rating: FRAO
Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Characters/Pairings: Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings: One scene of explicit rape in the first chapter. A few possible spoilers from and up to season 5.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I am not looking to profit from them.
Summary: A case goes badly wrong and Morgan and Reid are trapped at the mercy of two sexual sadists, Tom and Eric Faraday. Morgan/Reid slash. Focuses on their recovery and relationship after the trauma
When he and JJ got back to the cabin Morgan went upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. Reid was sitting cross-legged on their bed with an open book in his lap. A honey-brown lock of hair had fallen from where it was usually tucked behind his ear and hid his face partly from view, begging to be gently brushed aside to make way for a dreamy, languid kiss.
(Was it his imagination or was he getting steadily worse at ignoring these types of thoughts?)
"Hey." Reid looked up and smiled. "How did surveillance go?"
Morgan sat down heavily on the bed.
"Hard to say. A few people looked at them but no one really stood out. JJ reckoned there was this teenage boy on a school trip with his class who was staring at Prentiss a little funny, but all of the boys were staring at her," he smirked. "She was wearing a very uhh...revealing top you know what I mean? Hell I couldn't stop staring at her. I think Young was the only guy in the place able to keep his eyes on her face. And that was purely out of fear."
"They're hitting it off then?"
"Well they argue as much as any married couple I've ever met, so yeah…I reckon this case could spark something." Morgan raised his eyebrows suggestively and leaned back on his elbows.
"Nothing like being bait for a serial killer to bring two people together."
"It was a hell of a boring dinner though." Morgan sighed.
"Hey at least you got dinner!" Reid said indignantly.
"Yeah…I guess the food was pretty good." Morgan smirked.
"Go on then, what did you have?"
"Sirloin steak and fries." Morgan closed his eyes and made a blissful 'mmmmmm' sound.
"Hate you." Reid poked him in the spine with his toe.
"What did you have?"
"Bread and cheese."
"Awww poor baby genius." Morgan patted him on the head.
Reid nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Anyway, Hotch and Rossi want to go to bed so we've got to change over now." Said Morgan.
Reid put his book on the bedside table and they went downstairs to relieve their yawning bosses of their duty.
"How the hell are we meant to stay awake until four in the morning?" Reid sighed, looking unenthusiastically through the board games on the bookshelf next to the chimney breast.
Well I suppose I could always pin you down on this couch right here and kiss you until our lips are sore and you're all cute and flustered…
Morgan glanced at the shelf quickly before settling onto the couch to watch the CCTV camera feed on the screen of the laptop, which was sat on the coffee table.
"How 'bout a game of chess?" he asked.
"Really?" Reid said with a smirk.
"Hey I'm good at chess!" Morgan protested with a pout. "I may not be Gideon but I'm more than just a pretty face!"
Reid smiled shyly, "No. I know."
Morgan shook his head. "Come on. Set the board out genius."
"Even though we both know I'll win?"
Morgan gave a wry smile. "What can I say? I'm in a masochistic kind of mood."
Just under ten minutes later, Reid had Morgan at checkmate.
"Oh my god. You couldn't go easy on me even a little?" Morgan groaned.
"I was going easy on you!" Reid protested.
Morgan groaned again and got to his feet.
"Watch the screen. I need coffee if I'm gonna get through another round of this with my honour intact."
"Ok, can you make me one too please?"
"Are you sure? You should probably slow down on the caffeine if you're going to have any chance of sleeping tonight."
Reid looked annoyed.
"It doesn't make any difference." He said.
"Still, maybe you should just have…"
"I may be going crazy, but I'm still an adult. I don't need your input on simple life choices just yet." He snapped.
Morgan put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and went into the kitchen. When he came back with two mugs of coffee in his hands Reid apologised straight away.
"It's just really frustrating when you imply that…that I'm somehow choosing to suffer." He said, looking down so his hair fell forward over his eyes.
"I wasn't thinking that. I really…I just want to help." Morgan frowned, sitting back down.
"I know." Reid nodded sadly. "But please trust me, I have tried literally everything, and nothing helps. I just have to wait for it to go away."
Morgan let the argument drop.
"You're not going crazy." he said firmly.
"Sure feels like it." Reid said despondently. He picked up the pieces and reset them on the chessboard.
"Anyway, we'll call the first one a practise round. I promise I'll be gentle with you this time." He grinned slyly.
"Oh you'll be gentle with me huh? What, are you taking my chess virginity now?" Morgan teased.
Reid turned red.
"You gonna show me some of them moves you got pretty boy?" he continued suggestively, enjoying himself far too much at watching Reid get all agitated and squirmy.
"I've changed my mind. My victory will be brutal." Reid muttered darkly.
...
"Are you sure about that move?" Reid smirked over the top of his mug.
Morgan looked down at the board, which was now sitting on the couch between them. They were now on their fifth game and Morgan had held out a maximum of 20 minutes, after which he began to lose the will to live.
Reid on the other hand, was sitting with his knees up, feet twitching happily in their mismatched socks (one sock had snowmen, the other had snowflakes, so at least they had a consistent theme today) and looked perfectly cheerful.
Morgan had one foot up on the wooden coffee table, one tucked underneath him, and his elbow propping his head up on the back of the couch as he tried to stop dozing off between moves. He tried to recall why the move he'd made had seemed like a good idea, and instead came up with the image of his brain as an upturned tortoise, waggling its feet in the air uselessly in an attempt to right itself.
"I have no idea." He groaned.
Reid laughed. "Lucky for you it's time to change over now." he said, standing up. "Shall I wake them while you keep watch?"
Morgan yawned and nodded at the same time.
Morgan was just finishing brushing his teeth when Reid came up from the changeover.
"I bet JJ and Hotch were pleased to see you." He said through his mouthful of toothpaste and toothbrush.
Reid smiled and nodded, but it was a distracted smile. He stood with his arms folded around himself, looking bleakly at the bed in front of him. Morgan spat into the sink, rinsed his mouth and dried his face.
"Will you be able to sleep?" he asked, concerned. He wandered over to the dresser and retrieved a black T-shirt with blue and grey plaid pyjama bottoms.
"Maybe." Reid said.
Morgan hesitated with the pyjamas in his hand, wondering whether he should change in the bathroom to avoid making Reid uncomfortable, or whether that would make Reid think Morgan thought that Reid was perving on him.
He decided just to strip there in the bedroom like it wasn't a big deal. Reid followed his lead and started changing into grey flannel pyjama bottoms and a cuddly winter themed knitted sweater which made him look like an adorable dorky twelve year old. And still the sexiest thing Morgan had ever seen.
Great. He's going to make me develop some kind of fetish for knitwear now.
He caught sight of the brutal 'Bad boy' scar on the lower left side of his abdomen. It had healed over but it was still red and raised and painful looking. Reid saw him looking at it and pulled the sweater down quickly before getting into bed. Morgan took off his own shirt and pulled on the T-shirt as quickly as he could, feeling irrationally guilty that his own body had gone unscarred.
Sleeping in the same bed was strangely non-awkward, all things considered. It had been a long time since Morgan had slept beside a man, but it was okay. Comfortable even. He felt lucky that their friendship had survived such a huge amount so miraculously intact.
He wanted to stay awake for a while to appreciate the warmth of the body sleeping next to him, to privately indulge in his fantasy that they were more than friends for a little while, but he fell asleep almost immediately.
Reid wasn't so lucky.
He too was comfortable, for around ten minutes anyway. But then he felt Morgan stop moving around and start to breathe evenly, and then felt the pressure of staying still so as not to wake his companion, when normally he was a restless sleeper who turned over every five minutes. As a result of his self-discipline he did fall asleep for a short time, but then awoke into a weird half-conscious state where his thoughts turned into a stressful, incoherent mess, more like delusions than dreams.
He thought of those bodies, suspended in that black, bottomless lake, of the cold lily-white of their decomposing skin and eyeballs dissolving in their sockets. He dreamt he was in a boat in the dark, trying to find his way to the shore, but there was no land in sight and he was conscious of an evil presence circling silently somewhere in the icy, endless water like a deadly shark or a prehistoric monster of some kind, but with human intelligence and a supernatural power that knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly where he was at all times. It was coming towards him, he knew and he knew he had to act fast to save himself but he was filled up with a sense of helpless dread as if he were facing Death himself, and had no right to try and avoid him.
He clawed his way into consciousness and sat up. He was freezing cold but his fringe was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He brushed it back and waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. He hadn't experienced such a potent and abstract nightmare since he was a young child. Normally his nightmares were at least linear and dealt with tangible fears like previously faced unsubs coming back to kill him, or bad things happening to the people he cared about. This was how he imagined it felt to be mad, trapped in a nonsensical fantasy world which was horrifying for no describable reason, as if the insulation had been scraped off his nerves and somebody was directly stimulating his fear response.
He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked at Morgan who was peacefully asleep on his left side, facing towards him. He felt a little better, safer with Morgan so close by. He watched his friend for a while. He would feel bad waking him up over a nightmare when he'd had so little sleep himself, but part of him desperately wished he would wake up on his own and ask him what was wrong.
His breathing remained steady. Suddenly Reid was savagely envious, resenting the fact that Morgan was able to sleep so easily and he couldn't. He knew blaming Morgan for that made no sense, but he couldn't help it. And that made him feel guilty, and then he resented Morgan for making him feel guilty, and so on.
His head was such a mess.
He knew trying to sleep again would only bring back the scary half-way state, so he stood up, shivering and went to the bathroom. The thought of having to get up and dressed for work in a few hours brought panicked tears to his eyes. But he had fought to be allowed on this case and now his team needed him. The hotel guests needed him.
He stopped crying simply because it was a waste of energy he didn't have. He looked in the mirror as he washed his hands. He looked about ten years older than his age, his eyes were bloodshot and he had lost so much weight he was starting to look like an anorexic . But caring about his appearance was another thing he didn't have the energy for. He arranged some towels in the bathtub, fetched the book he'd started earlier and sat in the tub to read his way through the long night.
Just four more days to survive through until the last of the withdrawal symptoms were completely gone from his system. Then he could get back to normal.
...
Morgan came downstairs to find Reid sitting at the counter in the kitchen perched over a bowl of cereal which had long gone mushy. He hadn't thought it was possible for Reid to look anymore exhausted than he had the night before but he'd been wrong. It looked like he still hadn't managed to sleep. He looked up at Morgan but didn't say good morning or smile or anything.
Morgan walked behind him and placed a hand on his tensed shoulder, and just kept it there, stroking the back of his neck with his thumb like a half-massage. He was pretty sure that nothing he could say would help in the slightest, so he just showed his affection and support through touch. Reid let out a long breath and relaxed into Morgan's hand slightly.
Then Hotch came into the kitchen and gave Morgan a concerned look and Morgan stopped what he was doing because Reid didn't want Hotch to know how bad he was feeling, and because when Hotch looked at him like that it reminded him that he knew about Morgan's feelings for Reid and it didn't exactly look good, him touching Reid like that, even though he didn't mean it the way Hotch probably thought he meant it. He sat down and poured himself some cereal.
"Morning." He said to Hotch, who nodded. "So what's the game plan for today?" he asked.
"According to the timeline we put together the three couples went skiing on their first day. You and I will accompany Prentiss and Young to the activity centre, while Reid and Rossi work on finding out where the unsub took the victims and where the bodies are now."
Rossi joined them and they finished up breakfast and headed out, with great difficulty since the weather had worsened overnight and there was no way in hell they could use the car. The snow had stopped now but the sky was an ominous grey. JJ went up to the hotel to try and get through to the police department in town to update them about the investigation and give a statement to the press.
Luckily they were pretty close to the hotel, so they didn't have to trek for miles in a foot and a half deep snow, and once they got there the hotel provided transportation up the side of the mountain where the Winter Fun Activity Centre sat looking down on the resort. They sat down on a bench to watch Prentiss and Young trying to ski. It was hilarious. Young had horrific balance. He literally could not stay upright for more than ten seconds and whenever he got up to any level of speed he would slip up and fall on his ass, often taking Prentiss and the instructor out at the same time.
"Pretty amazing view." Morgan said, the first thing either of them had said since they'd set out.
Hotch gave a grunt of noncommittal agreement.
"Why do I get the feeling I'm in trouble again?" Morgan sighed after a long pause.
Hotch shook his head.
"You aren't." he said.
There was another long pause where he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.
"I don't want to interfere in your friendship with Reid…"
Why did Morgan sense a 'but'?
"But I just wondered if you realise how much you…touch him?"
"Excuse me?" Morgan tensed. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you calling me unprofessional?"
"No, I'm not saying that. You're obviously a very physically affectionate person, not just towards Reid but towards everybody. It's just that recently every time I turn around I seem to see you touching him some way or another."
"Woah what!?" Morgan said indignantly, standing up angrily. "Okay look, you walked in at a bad time this morning but don't just assume…I would never do anything inappropriate!"
"I know." Hotch said calmly. "I understand that you care about him a great deal, and I'm sure you would never put your friendship with him at risk. I just want you to be careful."
"Careful of what?" Morgan demanded. "Because in case you hadn't noticed, I am pretty skilled at keeping my feelings hidden."
"I'm not questioning that." Hotch agreed. "But the second thing I wanted to bring to your attention is that…" he hesitated. "…I've also noticed that Reid is far more receptive to physical contact with you than anybody else."
Morgan raised his eyebrows. He was starting to feel like a teenage boy getting 'the talk' from his dad. He started pacing in front of the bench agitatedly.
"My worry is, that Reid isn't the most perceptive when it comes to romantic advances." Hotch continued. "So even if he has no feelings for you he may inadvertently encourage them."
Morgan was reminded of the night Reid asked him to sleep beside him, and then asked him to leave two minutes later. He stopped pacing.
"I know that." He said uncertainly. "But I'm prepared for that. I'm not expecting anything from him. I never have."
"Maybe not consciously. But you wouldn't be the first to get…carried away. In the heat of the moment." Hotch said awkwardly.
Yup. Definitely starting to sound like the sex talk.
"And that leads me to my second worry, which is that Reid might have feelings for you, or think he does."
Morgan shuffled his feet in the snow.
"You think because we…because of what happened to us, he may be showing signs of transference? Onto me?"
"That's a possibility." Hotch said, standing up.
"You don't think…you don't think there's any possibility…?" Morgan fought to keep his voice casual.
"That he might genuinely return your feelings?" Hotch said.
Hearing it said out loud like that, Morgan immediately felt stupid for even asking.
Hotch thought for a moment. "I wish I could say I did Morgan. I really do."
Morgan nodded
"Right. I guess I knew that." He said and turned away, knowing his expression would say too much about how he felt. It had started snowing again lightly, and he tilted his head up to watch the snowflakes falling.
"It's very unlikely to be anything more than a symptom of the trauma he's been through." Hotch said apologetically, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But…you know him better than anybody. I'm not saying there's absolutely no chance that his feelings could be real. The situation may have jolted him into facing up to his sexuality. Or it could be that the support you've given him since has made him feel close to you."
"But it's unlikely."
"Yes. I'm sorry." Hotch genuinely did sound sorry. "And I'm not supposed to encourage you on this, but for what it's worth I really wish it could work out for you both. You deserve to be happy, and I think you would be good together."
Morgan was surprised and touched at his boss's support.
"Thanks Hotch." He said warmly.
Hotch grunted and mumbled gruffly that they were wasting time before signalling to the on duty policemen to take over surveillance and heading towards the door of the activity centre. Morgan chuckled and shook his head before following him.
There was a guy behind the desk who looked to be mid or late twenties. He had dark hair cut short, almost military short, and dark almond shaped eyes. He was tall and looked very physically fit. He was dressed in a khaki T-shirt and grey waterproof ski pants so Morgan guessed he was a skiing instructor.
He was talking on his mobile and flipping through an appointment book on the desk. He had a slight Eastern European accent, and his face had a hint of the Russian nose and close set eyebrows associated with that region. He looked irritated and harassed, and sounded like he was in the middle of an argument with somebody. When he saw them walk in he reacted strangely.
"I talk to you later kokhana." He said expressionlessly. "The agents are here."
He pressed the 'end call' button and put his phone down.
"Sorry to bother you Mr…?" Hotch said.
"Kurkov. Viktor Kurkov."
"Are you the boss around here?" Morgan asked.
"I am Winter Sports Director yes."
"Would you mind answering some questions about the couples who were murdered?"
Viktor shrugged with an air of passive-aggressive hostility and lead them down the corridor into a small meeting room.
They sat down.
"Were you their instructor during their stay?"
"The Kellers and the Brooks were mine. My wife took the Fosters."
"Your wife?" Morgan said. "That who you were talking to on the phone?"
Viktor nodded, glaring slightly.
"Sounded like you were fighting? Something wrong?"
"What goes on between my wife and I is our business."
"Normally I'd agree with you, but unfortunately two people are dead and four more are missing, and you and your wife spent the most time with them before they died, so I think you'd better start talking." Morgan said, irritated by the guy's attitude.
Viktor scowled. "It is like you said. People are being killed. She is scared and says she does not want to come to work. But I tell her our employer has made it very clear that if we don't he will give us the sack, because rich people want to go skiing even though people are dead, and so rich people must be allowed to ski."
"Did you notice anything unusual while you were teaching them? Was anyone behaving strangely?"
Viktor shrugged.
"Did the couples you taught seem worried or tense about anything?"
"No. They were in love and happy. They were like little kids playing in the snow."
"And nobody showed up to watch? It could have been someone you wouldn't normally notice, a security guard, or another instructor."
"I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention." He softened slightly. "I wish I had. They were my responsibility. I should have realised sooner that they had both disappeared on the same night. Then maybe the third couple would have been saved."
"So you saw them later on as well?" Hotch asked.
"Yes. Instructors have to attend the Wilderness Gathering on Saturday and the Winter Wonderland Masked Ball on Sunday. It is part of our job to make sure they feel comfortable socialising with other guests and that they have a good time."
"Did you talk to them?" Morgan asked.
"A little on Saturday. I asked if they were having fun and they told me they were. The two women, Josephine and Judy, they were not shy. They spoke to many people while their husbands took part in the competitions. At the dance though I only saw them briefly and then I could not find them."
Morgan's eyes widened. "You saw them on Sunday night? Both of them?"
Viktor looked confused. "Yes."
"They were wearing masks?"
"Yes."
Morgan and Hotch exchanged looks.
Interesting.
Hotch continued his enquiry. "We know from this unsub's method of killing that he took the victims to an isolated location to kill the men before drowning the women in the lake. Do you know of any place that would suit his needs? Privacy, access to the lake, somewhere with running water to clean the blood off his hands?"
Viktor sat up a little straighter. His eyes darted around the room.
"I don't know of any place like that. Sorry, I need to get back to work. I have a session booked for now."
"Alright. We understand. Thank you for your time." Hotch said.
...
"Did you see that?" Morgan asked once they got outside.
"His body language changed entirely when we asked about the location."
"You think he knows where the unsub took them?"
"That doesn't make any sense. If he knows then why would he lie? Unless he's implicated somehow."
"I'll call Garcia, ask her to run a background check on this guy." Morgan took out his phone. "Damn. No signal. It'll have to wait until we get back." He looked at Hotch. "Can you believe the unsub attended the dance with her as well as eating with her?"
"He must've figured it was safe since he was wearing a mask, no one would recognise him." Hotch remarked.
"And he used the whereabouts of the husbands as leverage to make the women play along." Morgan nodded.
"We'd better head back and tell the others what we found."
Link to chapter 12: http://colourmebipolar.livejournal.com/4330.html
Link to chapter 14: http://colourmebipolar.livejournal.com/4715.html
Author/Artist: colourmebipolar
Rating: FRAO
Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Characters/Pairings: Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings: One scene of explicit rape in the first chapter. A few possible spoilers from and up to season 5.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I am not looking to profit from them.
Summary: A case goes badly wrong and Morgan and Reid are trapped at the mercy of two sexual sadists, Tom and Eric Faraday. Morgan/Reid slash. Focuses on their recovery and relationship after the trauma
When he and JJ got back to the cabin Morgan went upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. Reid was sitting cross-legged on their bed with an open book in his lap. A honey-brown lock of hair had fallen from where it was usually tucked behind his ear and hid his face partly from view, begging to be gently brushed aside to make way for a dreamy, languid kiss.
(Was it his imagination or was he getting steadily worse at ignoring these types of thoughts?)
"Hey." Reid looked up and smiled. "How did surveillance go?"
Morgan sat down heavily on the bed.
"Hard to say. A few people looked at them but no one really stood out. JJ reckoned there was this teenage boy on a school trip with his class who was staring at Prentiss a little funny, but all of the boys were staring at her," he smirked. "She was wearing a very uhh...revealing top you know what I mean? Hell I couldn't stop staring at her. I think Young was the only guy in the place able to keep his eyes on her face. And that was purely out of fear."
"They're hitting it off then?"
"Well they argue as much as any married couple I've ever met, so yeah…I reckon this case could spark something." Morgan raised his eyebrows suggestively and leaned back on his elbows.
"Nothing like being bait for a serial killer to bring two people together."
"It was a hell of a boring dinner though." Morgan sighed.
"Hey at least you got dinner!" Reid said indignantly.
"Yeah…I guess the food was pretty good." Morgan smirked.
"Go on then, what did you have?"
"Sirloin steak and fries." Morgan closed his eyes and made a blissful 'mmmmmm' sound.
"Hate you." Reid poked him in the spine with his toe.
"What did you have?"
"Bread and cheese."
"Awww poor baby genius." Morgan patted him on the head.
Reid nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Anyway, Hotch and Rossi want to go to bed so we've got to change over now." Said Morgan.
Reid put his book on the bedside table and they went downstairs to relieve their yawning bosses of their duty.
"How the hell are we meant to stay awake until four in the morning?" Reid sighed, looking unenthusiastically through the board games on the bookshelf next to the chimney breast.
Well I suppose I could always pin you down on this couch right here and kiss you until our lips are sore and you're all cute and flustered…
Morgan glanced at the shelf quickly before settling onto the couch to watch the CCTV camera feed on the screen of the laptop, which was sat on the coffee table.
"How 'bout a game of chess?" he asked.
"Really?" Reid said with a smirk.
"Hey I'm good at chess!" Morgan protested with a pout. "I may not be Gideon but I'm more than just a pretty face!"
Reid smiled shyly, "No. I know."
Morgan shook his head. "Come on. Set the board out genius."
"Even though we both know I'll win?"
Morgan gave a wry smile. "What can I say? I'm in a masochistic kind of mood."
Just under ten minutes later, Reid had Morgan at checkmate.
"Oh my god. You couldn't go easy on me even a little?" Morgan groaned.
"I was going easy on you!" Reid protested.
Morgan groaned again and got to his feet.
"Watch the screen. I need coffee if I'm gonna get through another round of this with my honour intact."
"Ok, can you make me one too please?"
"Are you sure? You should probably slow down on the caffeine if you're going to have any chance of sleeping tonight."
Reid looked annoyed.
"It doesn't make any difference." He said.
"Still, maybe you should just have…"
"I may be going crazy, but I'm still an adult. I don't need your input on simple life choices just yet." He snapped.
Morgan put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and went into the kitchen. When he came back with two mugs of coffee in his hands Reid apologised straight away.
"It's just really frustrating when you imply that…that I'm somehow choosing to suffer." He said, looking down so his hair fell forward over his eyes.
"I wasn't thinking that. I really…I just want to help." Morgan frowned, sitting back down.
"I know." Reid nodded sadly. "But please trust me, I have tried literally everything, and nothing helps. I just have to wait for it to go away."
Morgan let the argument drop.
"You're not going crazy." he said firmly.
"Sure feels like it." Reid said despondently. He picked up the pieces and reset them on the chessboard.
"Anyway, we'll call the first one a practise round. I promise I'll be gentle with you this time." He grinned slyly.
"Oh you'll be gentle with me huh? What, are you taking my chess virginity now?" Morgan teased.
Reid turned red.
"You gonna show me some of them moves you got pretty boy?" he continued suggestively, enjoying himself far too much at watching Reid get all agitated and squirmy.
"I've changed my mind. My victory will be brutal." Reid muttered darkly.
...
"Are you sure about that move?" Reid smirked over the top of his mug.
Morgan looked down at the board, which was now sitting on the couch between them. They were now on their fifth game and Morgan had held out a maximum of 20 minutes, after which he began to lose the will to live.
Reid on the other hand, was sitting with his knees up, feet twitching happily in their mismatched socks (one sock had snowmen, the other had snowflakes, so at least they had a consistent theme today) and looked perfectly cheerful.
Morgan had one foot up on the wooden coffee table, one tucked underneath him, and his elbow propping his head up on the back of the couch as he tried to stop dozing off between moves. He tried to recall why the move he'd made had seemed like a good idea, and instead came up with the image of his brain as an upturned tortoise, waggling its feet in the air uselessly in an attempt to right itself.
"I have no idea." He groaned.
Reid laughed. "Lucky for you it's time to change over now." he said, standing up. "Shall I wake them while you keep watch?"
Morgan yawned and nodded at the same time.
Morgan was just finishing brushing his teeth when Reid came up from the changeover.
"I bet JJ and Hotch were pleased to see you." He said through his mouthful of toothpaste and toothbrush.
Reid smiled and nodded, but it was a distracted smile. He stood with his arms folded around himself, looking bleakly at the bed in front of him. Morgan spat into the sink, rinsed his mouth and dried his face.
"Will you be able to sleep?" he asked, concerned. He wandered over to the dresser and retrieved a black T-shirt with blue and grey plaid pyjama bottoms.
"Maybe." Reid said.
Morgan hesitated with the pyjamas in his hand, wondering whether he should change in the bathroom to avoid making Reid uncomfortable, or whether that would make Reid think Morgan thought that Reid was perving on him.
He decided just to strip there in the bedroom like it wasn't a big deal. Reid followed his lead and started changing into grey flannel pyjama bottoms and a cuddly winter themed knitted sweater which made him look like an adorable dorky twelve year old. And still the sexiest thing Morgan had ever seen.
Great. He's going to make me develop some kind of fetish for knitwear now.
He caught sight of the brutal 'Bad boy' scar on the lower left side of his abdomen. It had healed over but it was still red and raised and painful looking. Reid saw him looking at it and pulled the sweater down quickly before getting into bed. Morgan took off his own shirt and pulled on the T-shirt as quickly as he could, feeling irrationally guilty that his own body had gone unscarred.
Sleeping in the same bed was strangely non-awkward, all things considered. It had been a long time since Morgan had slept beside a man, but it was okay. Comfortable even. He felt lucky that their friendship had survived such a huge amount so miraculously intact.
He wanted to stay awake for a while to appreciate the warmth of the body sleeping next to him, to privately indulge in his fantasy that they were more than friends for a little while, but he fell asleep almost immediately.
Reid wasn't so lucky.
He too was comfortable, for around ten minutes anyway. But then he felt Morgan stop moving around and start to breathe evenly, and then felt the pressure of staying still so as not to wake his companion, when normally he was a restless sleeper who turned over every five minutes. As a result of his self-discipline he did fall asleep for a short time, but then awoke into a weird half-conscious state where his thoughts turned into a stressful, incoherent mess, more like delusions than dreams.
He thought of those bodies, suspended in that black, bottomless lake, of the cold lily-white of their decomposing skin and eyeballs dissolving in their sockets. He dreamt he was in a boat in the dark, trying to find his way to the shore, but there was no land in sight and he was conscious of an evil presence circling silently somewhere in the icy, endless water like a deadly shark or a prehistoric monster of some kind, but with human intelligence and a supernatural power that knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly where he was at all times. It was coming towards him, he knew and he knew he had to act fast to save himself but he was filled up with a sense of helpless dread as if he were facing Death himself, and had no right to try and avoid him.
He clawed his way into consciousness and sat up. He was freezing cold but his fringe was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He brushed it back and waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. He hadn't experienced such a potent and abstract nightmare since he was a young child. Normally his nightmares were at least linear and dealt with tangible fears like previously faced unsubs coming back to kill him, or bad things happening to the people he cared about. This was how he imagined it felt to be mad, trapped in a nonsensical fantasy world which was horrifying for no describable reason, as if the insulation had been scraped off his nerves and somebody was directly stimulating his fear response.
He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked at Morgan who was peacefully asleep on his left side, facing towards him. He felt a little better, safer with Morgan so close by. He watched his friend for a while. He would feel bad waking him up over a nightmare when he'd had so little sleep himself, but part of him desperately wished he would wake up on his own and ask him what was wrong.
His breathing remained steady. Suddenly Reid was savagely envious, resenting the fact that Morgan was able to sleep so easily and he couldn't. He knew blaming Morgan for that made no sense, but he couldn't help it. And that made him feel guilty, and then he resented Morgan for making him feel guilty, and so on.
His head was such a mess.
He knew trying to sleep again would only bring back the scary half-way state, so he stood up, shivering and went to the bathroom. The thought of having to get up and dressed for work in a few hours brought panicked tears to his eyes. But he had fought to be allowed on this case and now his team needed him. The hotel guests needed him.
He stopped crying simply because it was a waste of energy he didn't have. He looked in the mirror as he washed his hands. He looked about ten years older than his age, his eyes were bloodshot and he had lost so much weight he was starting to look like an anorexic . But caring about his appearance was another thing he didn't have the energy for. He arranged some towels in the bathtub, fetched the book he'd started earlier and sat in the tub to read his way through the long night.
Just four more days to survive through until the last of the withdrawal symptoms were completely gone from his system. Then he could get back to normal.
...
Morgan came downstairs to find Reid sitting at the counter in the kitchen perched over a bowl of cereal which had long gone mushy. He hadn't thought it was possible for Reid to look anymore exhausted than he had the night before but he'd been wrong. It looked like he still hadn't managed to sleep. He looked up at Morgan but didn't say good morning or smile or anything.
Morgan walked behind him and placed a hand on his tensed shoulder, and just kept it there, stroking the back of his neck with his thumb like a half-massage. He was pretty sure that nothing he could say would help in the slightest, so he just showed his affection and support through touch. Reid let out a long breath and relaxed into Morgan's hand slightly.
Then Hotch came into the kitchen and gave Morgan a concerned look and Morgan stopped what he was doing because Reid didn't want Hotch to know how bad he was feeling, and because when Hotch looked at him like that it reminded him that he knew about Morgan's feelings for Reid and it didn't exactly look good, him touching Reid like that, even though he didn't mean it the way Hotch probably thought he meant it. He sat down and poured himself some cereal.
"Morning." He said to Hotch, who nodded. "So what's the game plan for today?" he asked.
"According to the timeline we put together the three couples went skiing on their first day. You and I will accompany Prentiss and Young to the activity centre, while Reid and Rossi work on finding out where the unsub took the victims and where the bodies are now."
Rossi joined them and they finished up breakfast and headed out, with great difficulty since the weather had worsened overnight and there was no way in hell they could use the car. The snow had stopped now but the sky was an ominous grey. JJ went up to the hotel to try and get through to the police department in town to update them about the investigation and give a statement to the press.
Luckily they were pretty close to the hotel, so they didn't have to trek for miles in a foot and a half deep snow, and once they got there the hotel provided transportation up the side of the mountain where the Winter Fun Activity Centre sat looking down on the resort. They sat down on a bench to watch Prentiss and Young trying to ski. It was hilarious. Young had horrific balance. He literally could not stay upright for more than ten seconds and whenever he got up to any level of speed he would slip up and fall on his ass, often taking Prentiss and the instructor out at the same time.
"Pretty amazing view." Morgan said, the first thing either of them had said since they'd set out.
Hotch gave a grunt of noncommittal agreement.
"Why do I get the feeling I'm in trouble again?" Morgan sighed after a long pause.
Hotch shook his head.
"You aren't." he said.
There was another long pause where he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.
"I don't want to interfere in your friendship with Reid…"
Why did Morgan sense a 'but'?
"But I just wondered if you realise how much you…touch him?"
"Excuse me?" Morgan tensed. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you calling me unprofessional?"
"No, I'm not saying that. You're obviously a very physically affectionate person, not just towards Reid but towards everybody. It's just that recently every time I turn around I seem to see you touching him some way or another."
"Woah what!?" Morgan said indignantly, standing up angrily. "Okay look, you walked in at a bad time this morning but don't just assume…I would never do anything inappropriate!"
"I know." Hotch said calmly. "I understand that you care about him a great deal, and I'm sure you would never put your friendship with him at risk. I just want you to be careful."
"Careful of what?" Morgan demanded. "Because in case you hadn't noticed, I am pretty skilled at keeping my feelings hidden."
"I'm not questioning that." Hotch agreed. "But the second thing I wanted to bring to your attention is that…" he hesitated. "…I've also noticed that Reid is far more receptive to physical contact with you than anybody else."
Morgan raised his eyebrows. He was starting to feel like a teenage boy getting 'the talk' from his dad. He started pacing in front of the bench agitatedly.
"My worry is, that Reid isn't the most perceptive when it comes to romantic advances." Hotch continued. "So even if he has no feelings for you he may inadvertently encourage them."
Morgan was reminded of the night Reid asked him to sleep beside him, and then asked him to leave two minutes later. He stopped pacing.
"I know that." He said uncertainly. "But I'm prepared for that. I'm not expecting anything from him. I never have."
"Maybe not consciously. But you wouldn't be the first to get…carried away. In the heat of the moment." Hotch said awkwardly.
Yup. Definitely starting to sound like the sex talk.
"And that leads me to my second worry, which is that Reid might have feelings for you, or think he does."
Morgan shuffled his feet in the snow.
"You think because we…because of what happened to us, he may be showing signs of transference? Onto me?"
"That's a possibility." Hotch said, standing up.
"You don't think…you don't think there's any possibility…?" Morgan fought to keep his voice casual.
"That he might genuinely return your feelings?" Hotch said.
Hearing it said out loud like that, Morgan immediately felt stupid for even asking.
Hotch thought for a moment. "I wish I could say I did Morgan. I really do."
Morgan nodded
"Right. I guess I knew that." He said and turned away, knowing his expression would say too much about how he felt. It had started snowing again lightly, and he tilted his head up to watch the snowflakes falling.
"It's very unlikely to be anything more than a symptom of the trauma he's been through." Hotch said apologetically, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But…you know him better than anybody. I'm not saying there's absolutely no chance that his feelings could be real. The situation may have jolted him into facing up to his sexuality. Or it could be that the support you've given him since has made him feel close to you."
"But it's unlikely."
"Yes. I'm sorry." Hotch genuinely did sound sorry. "And I'm not supposed to encourage you on this, but for what it's worth I really wish it could work out for you both. You deserve to be happy, and I think you would be good together."
Morgan was surprised and touched at his boss's support.
"Thanks Hotch." He said warmly.
Hotch grunted and mumbled gruffly that they were wasting time before signalling to the on duty policemen to take over surveillance and heading towards the door of the activity centre. Morgan chuckled and shook his head before following him.
There was a guy behind the desk who looked to be mid or late twenties. He had dark hair cut short, almost military short, and dark almond shaped eyes. He was tall and looked very physically fit. He was dressed in a khaki T-shirt and grey waterproof ski pants so Morgan guessed he was a skiing instructor.
He was talking on his mobile and flipping through an appointment book on the desk. He had a slight Eastern European accent, and his face had a hint of the Russian nose and close set eyebrows associated with that region. He looked irritated and harassed, and sounded like he was in the middle of an argument with somebody. When he saw them walk in he reacted strangely.
"I talk to you later kokhana." He said expressionlessly. "The agents are here."
He pressed the 'end call' button and put his phone down.
"Sorry to bother you Mr…?" Hotch said.
"Kurkov. Viktor Kurkov."
"Are you the boss around here?" Morgan asked.
"I am Winter Sports Director yes."
"Would you mind answering some questions about the couples who were murdered?"
Viktor shrugged with an air of passive-aggressive hostility and lead them down the corridor into a small meeting room.
They sat down.
"Were you their instructor during their stay?"
"The Kellers and the Brooks were mine. My wife took the Fosters."
"Your wife?" Morgan said. "That who you were talking to on the phone?"
Viktor nodded, glaring slightly.
"Sounded like you were fighting? Something wrong?"
"What goes on between my wife and I is our business."
"Normally I'd agree with you, but unfortunately two people are dead and four more are missing, and you and your wife spent the most time with them before they died, so I think you'd better start talking." Morgan said, irritated by the guy's attitude.
Viktor scowled. "It is like you said. People are being killed. She is scared and says she does not want to come to work. But I tell her our employer has made it very clear that if we don't he will give us the sack, because rich people want to go skiing even though people are dead, and so rich people must be allowed to ski."
"Did you notice anything unusual while you were teaching them? Was anyone behaving strangely?"
Viktor shrugged.
"Did the couples you taught seem worried or tense about anything?"
"No. They were in love and happy. They were like little kids playing in the snow."
"And nobody showed up to watch? It could have been someone you wouldn't normally notice, a security guard, or another instructor."
"I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention." He softened slightly. "I wish I had. They were my responsibility. I should have realised sooner that they had both disappeared on the same night. Then maybe the third couple would have been saved."
"So you saw them later on as well?" Hotch asked.
"Yes. Instructors have to attend the Wilderness Gathering on Saturday and the Winter Wonderland Masked Ball on Sunday. It is part of our job to make sure they feel comfortable socialising with other guests and that they have a good time."
"Did you talk to them?" Morgan asked.
"A little on Saturday. I asked if they were having fun and they told me they were. The two women, Josephine and Judy, they were not shy. They spoke to many people while their husbands took part in the competitions. At the dance though I only saw them briefly and then I could not find them."
Morgan's eyes widened. "You saw them on Sunday night? Both of them?"
Viktor looked confused. "Yes."
"They were wearing masks?"
"Yes."
Morgan and Hotch exchanged looks.
Interesting.
Hotch continued his enquiry. "We know from this unsub's method of killing that he took the victims to an isolated location to kill the men before drowning the women in the lake. Do you know of any place that would suit his needs? Privacy, access to the lake, somewhere with running water to clean the blood off his hands?"
Viktor sat up a little straighter. His eyes darted around the room.
"I don't know of any place like that. Sorry, I need to get back to work. I have a session booked for now."
"Alright. We understand. Thank you for your time." Hotch said.
...
"Did you see that?" Morgan asked once they got outside.
"His body language changed entirely when we asked about the location."
"You think he knows where the unsub took them?"
"That doesn't make any sense. If he knows then why would he lie? Unless he's implicated somehow."
"I'll call Garcia, ask her to run a background check on this guy." Morgan took out his phone. "Damn. No signal. It'll have to wait until we get back." He looked at Hotch. "Can you believe the unsub attended the dance with her as well as eating with her?"
"He must've figured it was safe since he was wearing a mask, no one would recognise him." Hotch remarked.
"And he used the whereabouts of the husbands as leverage to make the women play along." Morgan nodded.
"We'd better head back and tell the others what we found."
Link to chapter 12: http://colourmebipolar.livejournal.com/4330.html
Link to chapter 14: http://colourmebipolar.livejournal.com/4715.html