Title: Sleeping Hands

By: Kelsey

Pairing: Morgan/Reid pre-slash

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not mine. Why are they never mine?

Summary: Post-ep for 'Revelations'. Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid preslash.

***

Reid was pale, shivering and covered in a light sheen of sweat when Derek helped him into the Bureau car. He'd refused to go with EMS, and after being given a list of things to look out for, Morgan had volunteered to take him home and stay with him for a while. He was going to need baby-sitting for a few days, and as little as Reid would like having Morgan there, he'd like it better than having any of the others present.

The ride home was long and quiet. Morgan wondered if Reid had fallen asleep several times along the way, but every time he glanced over, the younger man was staring blankly out the side window or down at his hands. His body language screamed that he wanted to be alone, and Morgan let him have the silence, since he wasn't about to leave him alone.

Parking was easy at this late-slash-early hour, and Derek had to open the door and touch Reid's arm before he seemed to register that they'd arrived. "We're home?" he asked softly, and Morgan nodded.

"Yep. Let's get you inside and you can get cleaned up and go to bed, okay?"

The first hint of any real emotion since they'd found him showed in Spencer's eyes as a spark of fear. "I don't want to sleep."

Since nightmares were almost certainly on the agenda when he did, Derek could certainly understand that. Spencer needed sleep, but now was not the time to argue about it. "All right. Cleaned up and get some rest, then." He held out his hand to the younger man, who still hadn't moved. "Let's go."

Moving like his brain wasn't entirely aware of his body wasn't something new for Reid, but tonight it had risen to a whole new level. Morgan had to put his hand between Spencer's head and the doorframe as he slid out of the car, and then catch him by the elbow as he tripped on a piece of uneven concrete. He wasn't overly concerned about the physical, though- Spencer was still lightly drugged, and likely deep inside his head as well. The rest of the walk to the front door and just inside was accomplished with no more near-accidents, albeit at a slow, cautious pace.

Sitting obediently on the couch when Morgan pointed to it, Spencer looked at a loss for what to do next. Making the decisions for him, Morgan brought him a bottle of water and started the shower. "Let's get you hydrated and cleaned up, okay?"

Taking the non-response for acquiescence, Derek twisted the cap off the water and pushed the open bottle into Spencer's hand. "Drink."

A few sips were hesitantly taken, followed by an eager guzzling of the water. Spencer had been given some careful sips of a re-hydration fluid at the scene, but this was his first taste of regular water, and he was obviously thirsty. "Whoa! Go easy there, Spence," Derek cautioned. "Don't want it all coming back up again."

Spencer drained the bottle despite the warning, and for a moment looked fine. Then he turned slightly green around the edges, and bolted for the bathroom.

Derek sighed and followed at a slower pace. The only thing that seemed to have come up was clear water, which was good since it meant that the pink-tinted re-hydration fluid had at least gotten into Spencer's system. He wet a washcloth in the sink and pulled back Spencer's dirty, scraggly hair with one hand while wiping his forehead with the washcloth in the other. "You okay?"

There was silence for a moment, and then a slow nod. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Good. Ready for that shower?"

"Yes. But…" Spencer let himself trail off, and Derek thought he caught a hint of embarrassment bleeding through his tone.

"What? You gonna need some help?" Derek thought this was a distinct possibility, since Spencer was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and still half-drugged.

The look of gratitude he was flashed was a welcome change from the blank-slate-Spencer that he'd spent the last few hours with. It was quickly gone, but its brief presence reassured Derek that Spencer would bounce back quickly with some caring assistance and a little time. "Yes."

"Thought you might. Let's get you out of those clothes, okay?" Derek pulled Spencer up and sat him on the closed toilet seat. He started unbuttoning Spencer's cuffs and then his shirt, and Spencer was aware enough to start helping by the time he got to the pants. Derek kneeled down to pull off his shoes while Spencer unzipped and pushed off his pants and boxers.

Quickly stripping himself down to his boxers, Derek took Spencer's arm and helped him into the shower. The water rained down on them harshly and Spencer flinched, whether from the heat or the sting, Derek couldn't tell. He reached around and turned both down. "Better?"

"Yes. Thank you." The blank tone was Spencer's 'I've-retreated-into-myself-and-can't-get-out' tone, but Derek knew better than to try for anything else right now. Later, he'd have to try and get the younger man to crack and talk about his feelings, but nothing was going to be accomplished by pushing now.

"Right." He looked over his charge, noted that Spencer was barely standing, and decided he'd do everything but the most intimate parts. He took the bar of soap from the side of the shower and started to lather his hands. When he reached out to rub them across Spencer's chest, there was a startled twitch of muscles under his hands, and Spencer jerked slightly. He stilled instantly. "This okay?"

A single nod, but it was accompanied by swift relaxation, and Derek continued. He soaped down Spencer's chest, across his back and down both arms before kneeling down and swiftly soaping his legs. Then he stood back up, steadied Spencer, who was swaying a little, and handed off the bar. "Here. Get your privates, and I'll get your hair." He grabbed the shampoo and poured some in his hand.

Gently urging Spencer to lean his head back, Derek rubbed the shampoo into the long, filthy locks. He had to steady his stance as he got more of Spencer than just his head leaning back, but didn't say anything. When the shampoo was sufficiently lathered, he turned them both around and let the water rinse the dirt, grime, and dried blood out of Spencer's hair.

"Again, please."

"Sure." Derek could see that all the dirt wasn't gone from Spencer's scalp, and right now he probably just wanted to be as clean as possible. He willingly lathered up the soft locks again, and turned them back for a second rinse.

Deciding that the extended rinse was enough to get the sweat off his body, Derek turned off the shower and reached outside for a towel. He wrapped it around Spencer's shoulders and gently dried him from neck to waist, and then legs. Finally, he wrapped the towel around Spencer's waist and let the other man tuck it together. He grabbed a second towel and gently rubbed Spencer's hair dry as best as he could without causing pain. Spencer didn't move, but he flinched a couple of time, and Derek slowed his pace in apology.

When Spencer was dry enough, Derek rubbed himself down quickly, then shed his sodden boxers and wrapped himself in the towel. Leaving the wet towel from Spencer's hair, his own soaking boxers and all of Spencer's filthy clothes on the floor in the bathroom, he guided Spencer into his bedroom and sat him on the bed. It took only a minute for him to find a drawer full of clean underwear, and grab two pair, knowing Spencer wouldn't mind. They'd be a little tight, but they'd do. He pulled on one pair and then walked over and handed Spencer the other. With shaking hands, he donned them in silence.

Derek left Spencer alone long enough to grab another bottle of water, but this time he poured a third of it into a glass and then took them both back to the bedroom. He handed Spencer the glass and let him drink it all in long thirsty swallows, then shook his head when Spencer held it out for a refill. "Give it a minute to make sure your stomach is okay with it," he said. "Then I'll give you more."

Spencer didn't complain, just put his hands back in his lap and stared at them. Derek looked down on him and sighed internally. The shell-shock was starting to wear off, he could tell, and he needed to get Spencer into bed and at least resting before it really did. If he didn't get Spencer to bed right now, while he was pliant enough to go, it would be days before he slept.

"Want some more?" he offered, reasonably sure that the water was going to stay down now.

Spencer lifted up his glass and nodded. "Yes, please."

While Spencer drank the water he'd poured, Derek moved around the bed and pulled down the covers on one side. Then he returned to Spencer's side. "Let's get you to bed," he said.

There was hint of the usual stubbornness in Spencer's eyes now, and he shook his head. "No. I don't want to sleep."

"Then we'll just get some rest. C'mon, Spence, I'm tired." It was an old trick, but still one of the best in the book.

Slowly, Spencer nodded. "All right. Let me get my book."

Derek shook his head. "Nope. No books. You don't have to sleep, but we're going to get some honest rest." He steered Spencer over to the side of the bed with the covers pulled down, and nudged him towards the bed. "Get in."

Reluctantly, Spencer complied. Derek walked around to the other side of the bed, and got in himself. It wasn't like he and Spence had never shared a bed- their team was always traveling, and sometimes the only hotel rooms available had one bed instead of two. When they'd first started working together, he'd kind of resented the idea that he and Spencer would automatically room together because they were young, but with a little more time under his belt he realized that he both liked Spencer as a roomie and would have been driven crazy by either Gideon or Hotch's quirks.

It was still dark outside, and Derek was counting on this fact to lull Spencer to sleep while he was still drugged and out of it. He knew for a fact that Spencer was exhausted, but the fear of the nightmares that sleep might hold was almost too great. Hoping to help sleep win, Derek turned out the lamp on the bedside table.

Spencer squirmed a little on his side of the bed, but didn't complain. When he didn't settle, though, Derek reached a hand over and lightly grasped Spencer's arm. A little shiver went through the younger man, and Derek was debating whether or not to remove his hand when a wave of relaxation seemed to sweep through Spencer's body and all his muscles went lax. Derek squeezed the forearm in his grip gently, and then left his hand where it was as Spencer let out a soft sigh and relaxed into a pattern of slow, even breathing.

Satisfied that Spencer was well on his way to sleep, Derek allowed himself to relax back into the soft mattress. Clinging to the edge of consciousness, waiting until he heard the characteristic soft snuffling that signaled real sleep for Spencer, Derek lay still and fought sleep.

When he heard the familiar sound, he smiled softly and gave up his hold on awareness. He knew he had to catch some rest while he could, because he really was exhausted, and Spencer would no doubt be up with nightmares several times. It wasn't hard to let the tide of sleep sweep him away, but he didn't give up his hold on Spencer's arm, even as the rest of his body relaxed into unconsciousness. Unseen by either, Spencer's sleeping body rolled onto its side facing Derek, and his other hand came up to take a firm grip on the arm that was already grasped around his. There was no other physical contact, only the arm, anchoring the sleeping agent to reality.