Title: An Inking of Empathy
Series: Of Innocence and Empathy (maybe?)
Author: Frogg
Beta: None (yet)
Rating: FRT-13 for fluffy angst, or angsty fluff and possible schmoopiness.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Damnit.
Author's Note: Set after Controlling Compassion. For some odd reason, Taddpole (my muse) decided to send the whole team, plus Haley and Jack, to the beach for a long weekend of relaxation. This is one small scene. It may well be classified as crack!fic.
"No, Spencer."
"Why not? He's dead to the world, Derek, he drove the whole way here, and was up almost all night with Jack. Haley says he'll be out for at least another couple of hours, and he's got sunblock on."
"He's not you."
Spencer's stubborn glare turned soft. "I know, but he's your friend. More than that. And I've seen, I've seen you--I'm saying this all wrong." He looked down at the plastic box in his hands, playing with the catch. "You know why we're here, more than just what we told Merrick. We all need to, to heal. There are a lot of old hurts between us, as a team, you know that."
Derek bit his lip at the reminder, looking away, feeling the sand and grit sting against his calves.
"We all know what lurks beneath the surface. We ignore it, we dance around it, we pretend it's not there, but we've all seen the damage. There's only so much time can heal by itself if we aren't willing to work at it and admit to it and..." Spencer took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"And me and Hotch have had more than our fair share of dust-ups."
"I, I think Aaron tries harder with you than with anyone else," Spencer answered, stressing the use of their friend's first name. "I know he knows the significance. And I couldn't think of a better way to wake up than--"
"Spencer, don't go there." Derek sounded amused, half warning and just the barest edge of aroused.
Spencer held out the box, waiting patiently until Derek took it with great reluctance. "If he doesn't like it, we're at the beach. It washes off."
Derek sighed, his gaze unfocused and wistful, a vague mix of fear and anticipation in his posture. The box in his hands rattled as he moved down the beach, bare feet plowing small furrows in the sand.
Haley looked up from her book and smiled at his approach, then glanced down at her husband's sleeping form spread out on the towel next to hers. Aaron's pale skin gleamed softly from the sun and lotion, his back rising and falling with the slow rhythm of slumber.
"D'you--" Derek gestured weakly with his free hand, not knowing how to ask.
"Go ahead, he won't mind."
Derek knew from experience that, outside of a few specific triggers, Aaron slept through anything. He only hoped being drawn on wasn't one of them.
~~~the end~~~
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