Title: Cuffs
By: LoraLee2
Pairing: can be veiwed as very mild Reid/Morgan or just plain Reid/Morgan friendship, can also be viewed as very slight Reid/Garica...
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers, I do not own any CM characters, I'm just borrowing them and will return them in the same condition as I found them.
Summary: Morgan gets the team to help Reid get over his fear of handcuffs.

***

Morgan stopped short as he opened the door to the round table room, Reid was sitting at the table, there was nothing unusual in that, what stopped him in his tracks was the look on his face. Fear. Pure sheer terror. Morgan looked around the room, he didn't see any cause for Reid's discomfort. Nobody else was in the room. He watched as Reid licked his lips, determination steeling across his features. He reached out a hand and poked at the set of handcuffs sitting on the table. Morgan was unsure whether he should enter the room or turn around and leave. Would Reid want him to witness this -- whatever this was?

Suddenly Reid looked up to him. The younger man tried to smile, but it was really more of a grimace. "Thanks for meeting me, I need to ask you a favor. A big favor."

Morgan walked over and sat across from Reid. He waited. Reid was staring at the cuffs again, he reminded Morgan or somebody waiting for a guard dog to bite, a snake to strike. Fear and fascination. "You know, they used to be toys. I used to play with them, I learned how to pick them, it was a cool magic trick - escapism. All I needed was a paperclip." He slammed a fist on the table, raised voice, angry, frustrated, fighting the tears he wouldn't allow to come, "All I needed was a goddamn paperclip."

He drew a shuddering breath, blew it out, "I haven't touched them -- since." Morgan knew exactly what "since" was. None of them ever spoke about it, they all danced around it, but every single one of them knew what "since" was, what "Georgia" meant, when "then" was, who "he" was.

Silently he rubbed his left wrist, the scars were gone, nobody could see them anymore, the redness, the raw, torn skin, the bruises had all healed months ago. Physically, visibly they were gone, at least to everybody else. To him they were still there, they ached, they bled, at night, when it was dark, when he was alone, sometimes they were still as fresh as they were when his team had found him, saved him.

Slowly he reached his hand out, placed his palm firmly on the silver bracelets, "Until you asked me to hand you yours today to cuff the unsub, I haven't touched a pair of handcuffs."

"What do you mean; we carry them every day, how can you not have touched them?"

"I've kept a set in my bag, I got a case for them, I actually had the clerk put them in it, and I haven't taken them out. They aren't toys anymore. They're not a trick to be learned, a prop to be mastered. They're my enemy."

He looked straight at Morgan, determination in his eyes, "They've become my enemy and I need to defeat them."

Morgan looked at his best friend, his little brother, he didn't know what would be required of him, but he knew he'd do whatever it took, "How can I help?"

Reid picked the cuffs up, "You know how in training, the instructors make the students practice arrests on each other, run hostage scenarios - you're cuffed, how do you talk your way out? Part of it's so you don't freak out if it happens, you know how to stay calm if an unsub captures you, puts your own cuffs on you," his breath hitched, "straps you to a chair, holds a gun to your head and beats you."

"You did it, Reid. You stayed calm, you stayed alive, and you told us how to find you."

Reid smiled sadly, nodded. They both knew that wasn't exactly true. He'd died in that cabin; he'd died with the stench of burning fish guts in the air and handcuffs around his wrists. It was only a twist of a fractured mind that had brought him back.

"I did. More or less." He held the cuffs out to Morgan who took them automatically, "but if it happened again tomorrow, I wouldn't be able to. If it happened tomorrow, I'd be lost in the past. If it happened tomorrow, I'd panic."

"You beat the drugs."

"With help. I need to beat this, too. I need help to beat this."

Morgan nodded. "You've got it. I'm right here." He held up the cuffs, "You're thinking operant conditioning?"

Reid nodded. Operant conditioning, positive reinforcement, the opposite of aversion therapy. "Voluntary behavior modification through positive reinforcement."

"You know it's going to take time?"

"I know."

"We'll need to take it slow."

"Well, I'm not asking you to chain me up for three days to prove I can survive it again. I was thinking a little more like thirty seconds to start with."

A voice from the door responded, "Actually, I think we should start with you just handling them first." Hotch walked in and sat across from Reid and Morgan. He took the cuffs from Morgan, placed them in his palm and held his hand out to Reid. "Then we'll move up to putting them on you for a minute or two at a time. Work up to it over several weeks, maybe a couple months."

Reid looked through the window to the bullpen; JJ, Garcia and Emily were leaning against a desk, looking back, watching them. They looked worried.

Hotch saw him looking to the rest of the team; he spoke softly, soothingly, "They can help."

Reid felt a moment's embarrassment, it had been hard enough asking Morgan for help, he hated for the whole team to see his weakness. Again. He looked out the window again and felt a moment's shame, not at his perceived weakness, but at his reluctance to let them see his faults. They'd all been there for him, every step of the way through his withdrawal, they'd held his hands, listened to his screams, wiped the sweat from his brow, the vomit from his clothes. They'd taken turns sitting by his bedside, making sure he was never alone for a moment, even when he managed to sleep. They'd heard the nightmares, comforted him in their aftermath. They'd dragged him from the abyss and he was embarrassed to let them know he needed help again.

He nodded to Hotch, who waved the girls in. They hurried in as if afraid he would change his mind and exclude them from whatever was happening. They listened attentively as Hotch explained the ins and outs of the therapy techniques they would use to help Reid become comfortable with his handcuffs, to become comfortable being handcuffed. Emily was familiar with the process; JJ and Garcia absorbed the details quickly.

He took the cuffs from Hotch's hand and held them while he concentrated on the friendship that flowed through this room. Garcia grasped his free hand, and he drew strength from her touch, quieting his tremors. He smiled at the thought that of all of them she knew the least about the psychology of positive reinforcement and behavior modification, but she was the one who practiced it naturally: Smiles, hugs, cookies and kisses.

Morgan broke into his thoughts by saying, "I think we have a workable plan, the only question is whether we can get our hands on enough M&Ms and Rice Krispie Treats for this to work?"

***