Title: How Much Longer
By: patch-tank
Recipient: fell_beast2
Pairing: None/gen
Rating: PG
Word count: 1291
Warnings/Spoilers: Mild spoilers for "Revelations"
Summary/Prompt: Each of the team's thoughts during "Revelations".
Notes/Disclaimer: Not my toys, I'm just playing with them for a while. Thanks to my beta of eternal awesomeness!
And another note: Now that the fics have been revealed, I can go ahead and post it here. I'm glad you enjoyed it fell_beast2 , I loved writing it! Thanks once again to the cm_exchange mods for organising this whole thing, it was great fun!

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1. How much longer can I do this job?

When he first started, there'd been a barrier, a kind of invisible wall that kept the evil at bay. Nightmares ended as soon as he woke up, he could laugh without hearing an echo of irony, and Milwaukee was just a city and didn't necessarily bring up thoughts of that man. But now that was being destroyed, like a candle burning a sheet of paper – slowly at first, with a smoky aroma and faint darkening, then rapidly with bright flames and Spencer's slumped form, imprisoned and helpless, forcing his gaze to the computer screen.

"And every island fled away," he murmured, "and the mountains were not found."


2. How much longer until I can look at them again?

It's her fault. She let him go alone, and they all know it. They're blaming her, and she doesn't know how long it will be until she can look at Gideon without feeling overwhelmed with shame, or at Morgan without feeling chastened and guilty. Or at Emily, without reliving the horror of what she'd almost done. As for how long it will be until she can look at a dog without the heart-pounding anxiety from earlier. . . well, she can't think about that right now. So for now, she looks at the screen.


3. How much longer until I stop feeling so useless?

He wants to punch the wall. Or kick a chair over, or break something, or do something equally macho and stupid, but he doesn't. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus, tries to ignore the frustrating rage bubbling up inside him, but it spills over as his hand slams down on the nearest surface, causing a sharp bang that makes everyone jump. He doesn't care.

Gideon is staring at the desk in front of them, and declines any eye contact with him. "We're doing everything we can," he says evenly.  "Everything you could be doing for Reid? You're already doing it. So it's not going to help any, you taking it out on the furniture."

He looks up at Gideon, his jaw setting. "So what? What would you have me do? Sit here and wait for the next person to get their throat slit?"

Gideon's expression hardens. He's crossed the line, and he knows it. He closes his eyes and interlocks his fingers behind his head. "I'm sorry. But this waiting? Playing by this guy's rules, having everything on his terms? This is killing me."

Gideon nods. "I know. But perhaps there's something else you could be doing now," he says, gesturing subtly toward JJ. She's standing in the corner of the room, arms folded tightly across her chest. Her eyes are red; her face is streaked with grime.

He catches her eye and walks over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, the other hand moving up to stroke her hair as he places a kiss on her temple. Tobias has Reid, but he didn't get JJ, and he wasn't getting him either.

And they would get Reid back. They had to.


4. How much longer can I hide the hurt?

It's hardly the thing to focus on right now. Reid is safe and that's all that matters. Not his own wounded ego. It was a tactic, that's all. And Reid was right, he'd understood.

But what about the others? They'd meant what they said. He isn't a narcissist. But a bully? He had no idea JJ felt like that. He has so much respect for her, and he assumed it was mutual – he'd never imagined she was actually intimidated by him. Nor did he realise Emily felt so maligned by him – he didn't lack trust in her, quite the opposite. And he'd never meant to nag or stifle Morgan. He just wanted his team to perform at their best. He thought they knew that.

Not that it matters. After everything that's happened tonight, he knows he shouldn't worry about such minor slights. But he will.


5. How much longer until this is over?

She plugs in a USB drive, backing up the data from Hankel's computer. She'll catalogue it all properly when they get back to the hotel, but for now she just makes sure it's all backed up. Hankel is dead, but evidence still needs to be recorded, and protocols still need to be followed. She rubs her stiff neck absently as she watches the status bar move left to right across the screen, indicating the files that have been copied.

"Hey, let me do that," comes a quiet voice behind her. Morgan places his hands on her shoulders and takes over kneading her tight muscles. Under normal circumstances she'd have had a snappy retort ready to chirp back at him, but right now she's too tired. She closes her eyes and lets her head drop forward as Morgan continues rubbing her neck in small concentric circles.

"It's over, sweetheart," he says gently. "We got him back."
She nods wearily, but doesn't answer. Because it's only over until next time she has to say goodbye to six people, wondering if this will be the time that only five come back.


6. How much longer until I'm not the new girl anymore?

She doesn't belong yet. They don't know her. She isn't even sure if they like her. But she hopes they trust her, just a little bit.

Especially Reid. She looks at him now, curled up on the sofa in the den of the hotel room he shared with Morgan. He's wearing an oversize sweater that looks like it belongs to Gideon, his face is pale, his hair knotted and straggly. Garcia sits on the couch beside him, and asks if he's okay.

"Sure. I'm fine, just a little tired," he says with an attempt at a smile. When he speaks his voice is raspy and thready, a hurt sound that makes her want to squeeze him. She settles instead for handing him a mug of hot chocolate, watching as he pulls his sleeves back to accept it from her.

"As a wise friend once told me," she says, tilting her head to the side to indicate Garcia, "there is no situation that can't be made exponentially better with chocolate."

As soon as she's said it she feels stupid. As if chocolate is going to make Reid feel better after what he's been through. This is why she doesn't belong – her thoughtlessness and big mouth keep everyone at arm's length. She starts to apologise, but Reid is smiling at her – a small smile, but a real one this time.

"That sounds like very good advice," he says, taking a sip.
Garcia grins and leans into him, hugging his arm. "See now, that's what I think."


7. How much longer until they realise what I've become?

His feet had stung with pain and cold. His vision had started to blur, and he'd realised how sore his throat was. The sharp odour of smouldering fish hearts had lingered in his nostrils, and he'd gulped fresh air, trying to force it away. Gideon's body was warm against his as he helped him stagger towards the car. The tiny vial had felt heavy and conspicuous in his pocket.

They've done everything they can to save him from Tobias. There's nothing they can do to save him from himself.

They'll all be so disappointed.

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