Title: You Can Run on for A Long Time
Author: icky_crane
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Warnings: None.
Summary: Everyone has their views on life. Not everyone has the same view. This is the case between Morgan and Reid when the topic of sexuality is brought up.
Disclaimer: Pure, Ungodly, Fiction.
***
As co-workers there was a lot the BAU team knew about each other, but as individuals the same could not be said. There was talk, from time to time, of their personal lives or what they allowed to be disclosed, but everyone has their secrets; none of them were excluded from this. For the first time in a long time they came to discus what most people would consider a personal matter: Sexual orientation. Spencer had chosen to remain silent on the matter, sitting adjacent to Morgan on the jet as they made the five hour journey back to Virginia. Spencer had kept out of the conversation entirely, opting instead to play with the deck of cards he had displayed across the small table; no one was interested in playing though. No, JJ was busy preaching peace and equality, Emily about how everyone, at one point or another, experiments, Rossi about how it was their prerogative, Hotch including social and genetic information, and Morgan?"I don't know, I just don't think it's right..." Spencer swallowed harshly at that, for once his lightly colored eyes lifted from the queens and jacks, kings and aces.
"From a religious, social, or environmental point of view?" Questioned Hotch, and yes, the man was inquiring as much as he was intelligent.
"All three," Morgan responded, and suddenly Spencer felt a pair of eyes on him. "What about you, Spence?" Questioned JJ, looking to the introverted man for insight.
"Yes, do tell us, genius," Morgan added, and so Spencer did.
"From a logical-social perspective, there are numerous theories, from a personal perspective? I'm sure I did not chose to be a homosexual male in a seemingly homophobic society. Religiously, I'm not personally inclined to know. I do believe, however, that being gay doesn't mean that you are not 'normal'. There are a lot of reason I don't consider myself to be in the norm, my sexual orientation not being one of them. As for environmental considerations...I did grow up for most of my life without a father figure, but so have many heterosexual individuals." Spencer never once looked up from his deck of cards, but he could feel everyone's rapt attention on him, and all he could do was try and not squirm under their scrutiny.
Eventually, Spencer got up, excusing his self to the restroom; taking a good long look at his reflection in the compact mirror. Spencer knew that his feelings, interest...whatever he could say to make his attraction less in-dept with Derek was foolish, and he knew it was, but now Spencer had the evidence. Spencer had Derek's very own words. The young agent chose not to take his former seat across from Morgan, opting instead to sit on the sofa next to Hotch who had moved on to his paper work. Spencer chose instead to read some, but not really, he was too aware of everyone's indirect gaze on him, Morgan's gaze. Spencer couldn't help but wonder if this was the end of their ever developing friendship. Spencer wouldn't be surprised if it was. He was glad that this was one of the teams shorter flights home, all Spencer wanted to do was go home and go to sleep—possibly forever if he could help it.
"Paperwork can wait, go home—it's almost eleven," Hotch called out, grabbing his briefcase and walking swiftly toward the elevator. Spencer is almost certain that this is the first time he has ever seen Hotch leave before anyone else, leave period.
"Jack's got a little league game tomorrow," JJ answers, smiling at the confused expression on Spencer's face. "Oh," he says, reaching for his satchel and opting to take his paperwork home. He figures he'll need the welcomed distraction.
"You know, if you ever need to talk...about anything, I'm always here," JJ chimes softly, and really, Spencer doesn't need the pity. The doctor was gay, not emotionally handicapped; Spencer smiled nonetheless.
"Thanks," Spencer pitches, moving his legs swiftly to get home. He had figured that Morgan had already left. He was surprised to see that the other man hadn't. Spencer had avoided elevators as much as he possibly could ever since that little incident that had taken place in the apartment building. Deciding upon the stairs it was curious to him that Derek was standing in the middle of the corridor. Surprised, Spencer jumped at the unexpectedness, but did not say a word as he reached for the cold-metal handle of the door.
"Reid," Derek's voice put a halt to Spencer's actions. Spencer wanted to keep going, ignore him, but at last, Spencer's efforts were futile; Spencer turned around, peering at the other man skeptically. "Yes?"
"I'm not going to apologize about what I said earlier."
"I don't expect you to," Spencer says, and in his head, Spencer had wished that this conversation would take a different path, but knew it would not. "I just want you to know that this doesn't change our friendship, or the way I see you."
"Of course it does, Morgan," Spencer says, and he supposed that Derek had expected him to agree with him. Well, Derek was wrong. "Excuse me?"
"The second I declared I was gay, your whole demeanor changed. Your body language became defensive, you're words strict and more controlled. Not to mention the look of apprehension in your eyes, but that's okay." Derek's body goes rigid which only provides more evidence of what Spencer had concluded just hours before.
"That's okay? Tell me how that's okay," Derek demands, an undertone to his voice. Spencer refused to respond to Derek in a physical manner, urging himself to keep this mental.
"Because as much as your opinion of me has changed, my own opinion of you has changed as well. Before, you regarded me as a socially awkward geek, and now you see me as a sexual deviant that, if given the chance, would take advantage of you. Mind you that I would never do such a thing, but it is not an unusual thinking process when considering someone attracted to the same sex. I had regarded you as a co-worker, friend and someone with a broader view than most. I now, however, realize that not only are you skeptical of those unlike yourself, you think yourself better than they are. Well, I have some news for you Morgan, you are not better than me. I am not better than you, but I'm also not your friend, though, I think, at one point I would've liked to." It nearly killed him to push those last few words out from within his diaphragm, making a hasty exit before anything more could be said. The paperwork did no good, tired eyes could do nothing but look through the printed sheets. Nothing would be the same.
Morgan had his reasons for saying what he had, and he did not have to explain them to anyone. But he had not meant to hurt Reid, not intentionally. Not at at all, but that didn't change the downfall between the two. Their relationship had changed even though Reid acted like it hadn't. Morgan almost felt invisible to the other agent; it hurt him deeply. Morgan wanted to talk to him, and knew that before all of this had spiraled like it had, that Reid would have dropped anything to be there for him; to listen.
---
"Son, I think you should get in the back with us," the man in his mid to late fifties cautioned, and so Spencer followed. There were a total of eight people in the dinner including Spencer. The couple who owned it, their son and his friend Bobby who were the only cooks, and three other people who had chosen the wrong time to stop by for a meal. The wind, once a high-pitched whistle now began to grow deeper, taunting. Nature was taunting them, urging them to be afraid. Then there came a sound Spencer knew was the beginning of the end, a sound that came across as a train tracking down high speed ahead. Spencer had read about that sound, heard stories from tornado survivors who, just before it hit, heard the same haunting tone.
"Head between your knees! Keep your head between your knees!" Spencer couldn't tell who was screaming that warning, for all he knew it could have been himself. All Spencer did know as the noise grew louder, closer...all he could think about was Derek. Derek, and how he had missed his last chance to make things right between them, how it was just too late...for everything, but if he could tell the other man anything, just one thing...it would be the truth. The truth that Spencer loved him, and he did love Derek. With everything he had, and even if the other man could never reciprocate in the way he wanted, their friendship was just that important to try and save, and he hadn't. He'd let Derek down, and now he was going to die.
Derek had just finished a lengthy workout. In fact, he wouldn't consider it much of a workout as much as he would a form of punishing himself. Powerful body aching with each forced move, lungs heaving in as much air as they could possibly take in. Sweat drenching his tee-shirt as he discarded the now adhesive material. Closing the door to his house, kicking off his running shoes as his dog Clooney greeted him warmly. Derek looked down at the dog thoughtfully, wishing he could great the animal in the same manner.
Derek's voice-mail was beeping, red light indicating to him that he had three missed messages. Derek hit play lazily with his finger, moving into his kitchen to grab a bottle of water, downing it in less than three minutes before grabbing another one. His mother's soft voice invaded every inch of his house, reminding Derek that he needed to be in Chicago by next Friday for his sister Sarah's birthday. The second message was his mother again, reminding him to bring the digital camera this time and that he needed to call her back or else she would whoop him. The third message came on....and Derek knew the moment he heard Garcia's voice that something terribly wrong had happened. Tentatively he approached the machine, waiting as her voice quivered in and out.
Present Time
Derek couldn't move, he couldn't think. His body and mind had both begun to completely shut down.
"Morgan, it's Prentiss and Garcia. We need you to open the door, okay?" Derek could faintly make out the concern in Emily's voice, but couldn't bring himself any further than that. Panic and fear had begun to eat away at his insides, ripping him apart.
"Morgan..."
"Don't lie to me, Garcia."
"We don't know, Morgan. We don't know anything." Prentiss stood pitifully near by, eyes remorseful as she fought back her own emotions.
"We need to go, Morgan, Sweetie," she spoke softly, and Morgan couldn't comprehend a goddam word she was trying to tell him.
"He's dead, Sir."
Spencer was not too keen on whether or not he was alive...it seemed as though he kept going in and out of consciousness. He could feel a heavy pressure on top of his chest, and he couldn't move any of his limbs. Not to mention the taste of copper was sitting overwhelmingly in his mouth. Spencer choked on the liquid, coughing violently as the small amount of sun he could see began to fade. Spencer could hear people around him, calling out for survivors, but he couldn't answer them. Spencer knew if they didn't find him now, that he going to die. With the last bit of strength he had left in his whole body he cried out:
"Is someone down there?" Spencer could hear an unfamiliar voice calling out to him. Bright light of a flashlight beaming down into his face. "Yes, yes I'm here!"
"We're coming for you, son! Tell me your name!"
"Spencer, my name is Spencer Reid...."
"Well, Spencer Reid just you hold on! We're coming to get you."
---
No one, and I mean absolutely no one they had found so far had been alive. Their lifeless bodies being carted away. Derek began to lose himself. Seeing the pain James had gone through at losing his entire family.
"We've got a live one! I need help, he's going in and out!" Tucker, the lead searcher called out, peering over a large mas of debris. Derek picked himself up. Running full force about ten yards to where four other men were working as quickly as they could. Tucker's face, however, was full of concern.
"Mr. Spencer, we're coming to get you!" Derek's heart stopped completely, what were the chances? Derek didn't care.
"Spence, Spencer, is that you?" Derek hollered as loud as his voice would go, helping to remove the large slab of concrete that laid on top of his fragile body. Dark eyes caught hold of a familiar satchel.
"Reid, I'm here!" One more tug and pull, and Derek fell to the ground in a heap of exhaustion. There was Reid's body, bloody and just barely breathing.
"I'm losing his pulse!" Tucker called out, paramedics lifting him onto a stretcher, eyes rolling towards the back of his head.
"Reid, Reid stay with me!" Derek jumped into the ambulance without a second thought. Crying out to the unresponsive form, begging Reid to just stay with him. The paramedics placed and oxygen mask over his face, the grip Derek had on Reid's hand tightening.
"He's got some internal bleeding, Charlie. Speed it up!"
"Come on, Spencer. You've survived so much more than this, pretty boy. Come on, you can't leave me now. Not when we've got somethings to talk about...."
Five Day's Later
Spencer opened his eyes, only to snap them shut again. The florescent lighting penetrating down made his head hurt. Slowly, he adjusted, blinking in rapid session to gain his sight back.
"Oh my Gosh! Reid, honey!" Garcia's wailing voice penetrated Spencer's sensitive ear drums, and he flinched away at the sudden volume. Spencer was confused, but also happy to see a familiar face. Turning his head slightly to the side he saw a familiar figure slumped in one of the hospital chairs, Derek's head was face down in Spencer's bed as he snored softly.
"He hasn't slept in four days," Garcia whispered, running her fingers through Spencer's hair as she was afraid to touch him. "Where is everyone?"
"Hotch is in the room three doors down, Rossi is keeping him company...and from doing work. JJ and Prentiss were here, they just went down to get something to eat...and stud muffin here hasn't left," Garcia commented, head tilting in Derek's direction. Face over joyed to see that Spencer was, in fact, okay. It had been touch and go for a while there, and the Doctor doubted if Spencer would have the use of his left arm in the future, but here Spencer Reid was, alive against all odds. "Do you think I could have a minute with him alone, Garcia?"
***
Morgan had his reasons for saying what he had, and he did not have to explain them to anyone. But he had not meant to hurt Reid, not intentionally. Not at at all, but that didn't change the downfall between the two. Their relationship had changed even though Reid acted like it hadn't. Morgan almost felt invisible to the other agent; it hurt him deeply. Morgan wanted to talk to him, and knew that before all of this had spiraled like it had, that Reid would have dropped anything to be there for him; to listen.
"If you're going to talk to him, you better do it soon. He and Hotch leave to Kansas tonight." Rossi spoke, interrupting Morgan's train of thought.
"What?" Morgan asked. He hadn't heard of them leaving to Kansas, and he most certainly hadn't realized that he had been staring off into space either. Morgan couldn't imagine how incompetent that lapse in time had made him appear in the work place.
"They're going to Kansas to interview Del Marco, if you need to say something to Reid, I suggest you do it sometime soon." Leave it up to Rossi to be so direct that he came across as indirect in manner. Morgan knew Rossi was right, no matter how cryptic the elder agent was being at the moment. Morgan sighed heavily, making direct eye contact with the other man for the first time since he had spoke. "Something you want to tell me, Rossi?
"Something you want to listen to, Morgan?" Morgan thought about the proposal, long and hard, but knew he needed whatever Rossi was going to throw at him. Whether it be good, bad, or somehow in between the two.
"Yeah, I'll listen," Morgan says. Rossi motions for him to follow, and he does wearily. Closing the door to Rossi's office, declining to sit when politely offered.
"Listen, Morgan...I'm not going to tell you that what you said was wrong."
"You're not?"
"No, I'm not. I'm going to tell you that I don't think you believe in what you said. No, I think your response was forced, and I know for a fact that you weren't expecting for Reid to respond like he had. None of us had, and now you feel guilty." Morgan clasped one of his large hands behind his neck attempting, with no success, to rub away the tension building in his body. Rossi was right, Morgan did feel guilty... just about everything. Dark eyes glanced at the other agent with a desperate look in those orbs, a silent plea for Rossi to tell him how to fix all of this. "Talk to him."
"I can't, Rossi. He's made up his mind about me, and all I would do would cause more confusion."
"So you'd rather have things remain the same?"
"Honestly, no." The two men left it at that, and it gave Morgan more to think about than he already had been. Morgan went to Hotch's office; no one was there though. Baffled, Morgan walked down to JJ's office, knocking softly at his colleagues door before getting the okay to enter. "Morgan, what can I do for you?"
"Hey, JJ, have you seen Hotch?" JJ looked down at her watch before returning her gaze to Morgan.
"Him and Reid should have just departed."
"Rossi said that their flight didn't leave until six-thirty tonight, it's only four."
"Alma is suppose to be experiencing some bad weather later on today, so they left a few hours early." When JJ gave him the news, Morgan couldn't help but to feel a rush of disappointment.
"Thanks anyway," Morgan says with a wave of his hand, turning to leave.
"Morgan, you okay?" The woman had a sweet voice, nurturing in it's softness. Morgan bowed his head slightly,half of his body in her office and the other half ready to flee. Morgan had already had one heart to heart today; he really couldn't bare another. "I'm trying to be."
"Something you want to listen to, Morgan?" Morgan thought about the proposal, long and hard, but knew he needed whatever Rossi was going to throw at him. Whether it be good, bad, or somehow in between the two.
"Yeah, I'll listen," Morgan says. Rossi motions for him to follow, and he does wearily. Closing the door to Rossi's office, declining to sit when politely offered.
"Listen, Morgan...I'm not going to tell you that what you said was wrong."
"You're not?"
"No, I'm not. I'm going to tell you that I don't think you believe in what you said. No, I think your response was forced, and I know for a fact that you weren't expecting for Reid to respond like he had. None of us had, and now you feel guilty." Morgan clasped one of his large hands behind his neck attempting, with no success, to rub away the tension building in his body. Rossi was right, Morgan did feel guilty... just about everything. Dark eyes glanced at the other agent with a desperate look in those orbs, a silent plea for Rossi to tell him how to fix all of this. "Talk to him."
"I can't, Rossi. He's made up his mind about me, and all I would do would cause more confusion."
"So you'd rather have things remain the same?"
"Honestly, no." The two men left it at that, and it gave Morgan more to think about than he already had been. Morgan went to Hotch's office; no one was there though. Baffled, Morgan walked down to JJ's office, knocking softly at his colleagues door before getting the okay to enter. "Morgan, what can I do for you?"
"Hey, JJ, have you seen Hotch?" JJ looked down at her watch before returning her gaze to Morgan.
"Him and Reid should have just departed."
"Rossi said that their flight didn't leave until six-thirty tonight, it's only four."
"Alma is suppose to be experiencing some bad weather later on today, so they left a few hours early." When JJ gave him the news, Morgan couldn't help but to feel a rush of disappointment.
"Thanks anyway," Morgan says with a wave of his hand, turning to leave.
"Morgan, you okay?" The woman had a sweet voice, nurturing in it's softness. Morgan bowed his head slightly,half of his body in her office and the other half ready to flee. Morgan had already had one heart to heart today; he really couldn't bare another. "I'm trying to be."
---
"Reid, Reid wake up." Hotch's voice woke Reid from a dreamless sleep. Stretching his long limbs Reid realized the jet was no longer in motion.
"We're in Alma," Reid couldn't say he was exactly thrilled. Kansas wasn't a bad place, but the weather outside proved to be just as atrocious as they had said. The clouds swirled and converged angrily in the sky. They were here to interview a woman who had seduced at least a dozen me, that they knew of, in bars across the county. Bringing the intoxicated individuals back to her secluded home in the woods and slaughtering each and everyone of them before tossing their body parts into various ditches across the state.
"We have tonight and tomorrow morning to prepare the rest of our interview," Hotch spoke as they checked into their hotel, not bad considering their sudden arrival and lack of options.
"I'll be down the hall," and leave it up to Hotchner to keep things professional amidst conflict within his very own team. Not that he wouldn't speak about it later, but the elder agent knew when to approach a subject and when not to, this moment just happened to be one of the later.
"Okay." Reid settled down onto the newly prepped bed, cotton sheets sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Pillow smelling of some sort of potent cleaning supply. Reid stared at his phone, contemplating whether or not to call JJ. Finally giving in, he dialed her number. "Hey, JJ."
"Hey, Spence."
"Just calling to tell you that we made it safely."
"Oh, good! Did Warden Brown meet up with you?"
"No, we both decided that tomorrow would be better."
"Yeah, I'm watching the news, and it's not looking pretty over there."
"Yeah, it could be better. Uh, listen, I've got to..."
"Spence."
"Yeah, JJ?"
"Morgan came into my office today."
"Oh..."
"I'm pretty sure he was looking for you. I think he needed to speak talk about something."
"Yes, well, he'll have to wait."
"We're in Alma," Reid couldn't say he was exactly thrilled. Kansas wasn't a bad place, but the weather outside proved to be just as atrocious as they had said. The clouds swirled and converged angrily in the sky. They were here to interview a woman who had seduced at least a dozen me, that they knew of, in bars across the county. Bringing the intoxicated individuals back to her secluded home in the woods and slaughtering each and everyone of them before tossing their body parts into various ditches across the state.
"We have tonight and tomorrow morning to prepare the rest of our interview," Hotch spoke as they checked into their hotel, not bad considering their sudden arrival and lack of options.
"I'll be down the hall," and leave it up to Hotchner to keep things professional amidst conflict within his very own team. Not that he wouldn't speak about it later, but the elder agent knew when to approach a subject and when not to, this moment just happened to be one of the later.
"Okay." Reid settled down onto the newly prepped bed, cotton sheets sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Pillow smelling of some sort of potent cleaning supply. Reid stared at his phone, contemplating whether or not to call JJ. Finally giving in, he dialed her number. "Hey, JJ."
"Hey, Spence."
"Just calling to tell you that we made it safely."
"Oh, good! Did Warden Brown meet up with you?"
"No, we both decided that tomorrow would be better."
"Yeah, I'm watching the news, and it's not looking pretty over there."
"Yeah, it could be better. Uh, listen, I've got to..."
"Spence."
"Yeah, JJ?"
"Morgan came into my office today."
"Oh..."
"I'm pretty sure he was looking for you. I think he needed to speak talk about something."
"Yes, well, he'll have to wait."
They hung up soon after that, JJ left defeated. Reid stared uninterestedly up at the ceiling, making patterns in his mind that weren't really there, but it helped to distract him. He just wanted this to end. Not only could he not face Morgan for the duration of the time, he could barely talk about him to the one person he knew he could confide just about everything to. Time seemed endless and dragging, but Reid new the truth, and the truth was...time was running out for them.
He never imagined it would happen this way, though. Spencer was notorious for ignoring his stomachs wants and needs for the majority of the time. It figured that the moment he decided to take a break, travel down the road to some off-route dinner for something to fill his stomach would prove to be his downfall. Spencer was tired. Tired of everyone and everything; even himself. Spencer wanted a warm cheese sandwich and something hot to drink to help the knots coiled in the pit of his stomach. Hotch had warned the other agent not to go, that it was not safe; Spencer ignored his worrying. Ignored the news that played on a loop at the hotel, advising and frightening the guests of the horrid weather they were in for. Spencer promised he would be back in less than ten minutes. Spencer knew now that that wasn't going to be the case anymore. The sky seemed to fall, and the old couple who owned the place couldn't keep the grimacing looks from their worn down features. If Spencer Reid had learned anything while doing this job, it was that locals knew best.
***
When one got down to it, really inspected the human body, it was nothing more than a contradiction. Or at least that was how Spencer felt about it. The human body was designed to protect us, and it did, it did protect us. But it also failed us in the end, did it not? In youth your hair shines in the light, but then as you age it looses all it's glamor and gloss. Nails once strong grow weak and brittle, breaking. Skin once rejuvenating and exuberant begins to tear and bruise. Bones begin to weaken, decreasing till they are nothing more than a memory. Everyone died at some point, and Spencer feared that this was his time to go.He never imagined it would happen this way, though. Spencer was notorious for ignoring his stomachs wants and needs for the majority of the time. It figured that the moment he decided to take a break, travel down the road to some off-route dinner for something to fill his stomach would prove to be his downfall. Spencer was tired. Tired of everyone and everything; even himself. Spencer wanted a warm cheese sandwich and something hot to drink to help the knots coiled in the pit of his stomach. Hotch had warned the other agent not to go, that it was not safe; Spencer ignored his worrying. Ignored the news that played on a loop at the hotel, advising and frightening the guests of the horrid weather they were in for. Spencer promised he would be back in less than ten minutes. Spencer knew now that that wasn't going to be the case anymore. The sky seemed to fall, and the old couple who owned the place couldn't keep the grimacing looks from their worn down features. If Spencer Reid had learned anything while doing this job, it was that locals knew best.
"Son, I think you should get in the back with us," the man in his mid to late fifties cautioned, and so Spencer followed. There were a total of eight people in the dinner including Spencer. The couple who owned it, their son and his friend Bobby who were the only cooks, and three other people who had chosen the wrong time to stop by for a meal. The wind, once a high-pitched whistle now began to grow deeper, taunting. Nature was taunting them, urging them to be afraid. Then there came a sound Spencer knew was the beginning of the end, a sound that came across as a train tracking down high speed ahead. Spencer had read about that sound, heard stories from tornado survivors who, just before it hit, heard the same haunting tone.
"Head between your knees! Keep your head between your knees!" Spencer couldn't tell who was screaming that warning, for all he knew it could have been himself. All Spencer did know as the noise grew louder, closer...all he could think about was Derek. Derek, and how he had missed his last chance to make things right between them, how it was just too late...for everything, but if he could tell the other man anything, just one thing...it would be the truth. The truth that Spencer loved him, and he did love Derek. With everything he had, and even if the other man could never reciprocate in the way he wanted, their friendship was just that important to try and save, and he hadn't. He'd let Derek down, and now he was going to die.
There was a sudden burst of glass, screams emerging from men and women of all ages and social classes as the sharp shards flew everywhere. They huddled closer together, holding on to each other for some form of support. Spencer could only tuck his head further into his chest, nearly suffocating himself as he fought for each breath. Slender arms wrapping around his head, digging into the mess of his hair as he began to cry silently. This was it.
The ceiling caved in a fraction of a second later.
The ceiling caved in a fraction of a second later.
---
Derek had just finished a lengthy workout. In fact, he wouldn't consider it much of a workout as much as he would a form of punishing himself. Powerful body aching with each forced move, lungs heaving in as much air as they could possibly take in. Sweat drenching his tee-shirt as he discarded the now adhesive material. Closing the door to his house, kicking off his running shoes as his dog Clooney greeted him warmly. Derek looked down at the dog thoughtfully, wishing he could great the animal in the same manner.
Derek's voice-mail was beeping, red light indicating to him that he had three missed messages. Derek hit play lazily with his finger, moving into his kitchen to grab a bottle of water, downing it in less than three minutes before grabbing another one. His mother's soft voice invaded every inch of his house, reminding Derek that he needed to be in Chicago by next Friday for his sister Sarah's birthday. The second message was his mother again, reminding him to bring the digital camera this time and that he needed to call her back or else she would whoop him. The third message came on....and Derek knew the moment he heard Garcia's voice that something terribly wrong had happened. Tentatively he approached the machine, waiting as her voice quivered in and out.
"Morgan, sugar, honey...I've...I've got some bad news..." Derek could hear the tears in her eyes as she spoke, his heart sinking into his stomach as he felt sick.
"Derek, there was a F5 tornado that hit Alma this afternoon...Hotch he's really hurt, really hurt....and...and Derek, they can't find Reid's body. Sweetie, I tried calling you...I...the team, we need you. I need you right now, Morgan." This had to be some sick joke, it had to be. Derek's legs gave out beneath him. That couldn't be right. It just couldn't be, but Garcia would never lie to him. Not about that. Not about Reid. He couldn't breathe. He just couldn't. Cradling his head in his trembling hands.
"God, please no...please no!"
***
Thirteen Hours Prior"Reid, it's Rossi. I know you may not want to hear this, and maybe that's why your not answering your phone, but I've spoken to Morgan, Reid. I know about the case in Chicago, and as a profiler, you should know that sexual abuse can manifest itself. I also know that you've probably thought of this, and while it is a touchy subject, I think you should be the one to discuss it with him. Personally, I think he's conflicted, but more than that, I think he needs to talk to you right now as much as you need to talk to him. If you get this message, don't bother to call me, call the person you know you're suppose to."
Present Time
Derek couldn't move, he couldn't think. His body and mind had both begun to completely shut down.
"Morgan, it's Prentiss and Garcia. We need you to open the door, okay?" Derek could faintly make out the concern in Emily's voice, but couldn't bring himself any further than that. Panic and fear had begun to eat away at his insides, ripping him apart.
"Morgan, I'm sorry I have to do this," and by this, Prentiss meant kicking in Derek's front door. Garcia rushed over to the fallen man's side, pulling him in for a tight hug and all Derek could think about was Reid.
"Is he dead, Garcia? Is he dead?"
"Morgan..."
"Don't lie to me, Garcia."
"We don't know, Morgan. We don't know anything." Prentiss stood pitifully near by, eyes remorseful as she fought back her own emotions.
"We need to go, Morgan, Sweetie," she spoke softly, and Morgan couldn't comprehend a goddam word she was trying to tell him.
"We need to go to Alma. We have to go to Hotch...to Reid." Derek nodded his head slowly, understanding finally beginning to sink in. It dawned on him what he had to do, rising to his feet with abandon, almost losing his balance in the process.
"We need to go. We need to go right now!" He shouted, heading towards the front door before Prentiss stopped him mid stride.
"Morgan, I know you're worried, but you're not dressed," Emily pointed out, and she was right of course but it felt to Derek like he was wasting valuable time. Changing as quickly as he could, throwing random articles of clothing into his empty go-bag before the three of them headed out. They met up with JJ, Rossi, and even Strauss. Derek was anxious the entire flight. Fighting between the urge to cry and the urge to violently throw things around.
"We're going to find him," JJ whispered and it was the first time she had spoken since they had boarded the plane. Derek could only look at the blonde, and pray that she was right. The planed had barely touched down before Derek was ducking out the jet. The damage was...beyond anything he had ever seen before, and it terrified him. Their first stop was the hospital, where Hotch had been operated on and the unidentified bodies were being sent. Prentiss and Rossi headed to the unidentified persons as Strauss went to meet up with the man in charge of the search and rescue. Garcia and Derek found their way over to Hotch's bedside, he looked as damaged as Derek had ever seen him, and that was saying a lot. A large piece of the hotel's foundation had collapsed down on top of him; pinning and crushing his legs.
"Update," he said, professional as always, a natural born leader. Derek could only look at him glossy eyed and prayed that none of those bodies down stairs was Reid. "Sir, Prentiss and Rossi are trying to identify bodies, and Strauss is speaking with the man put in charge..."
"Warden Brown?"
"He's dead, Sir."
"You need to find Reid. He was going to some dinner down the road, Ann and Ben's...Ann and Steve's, something along those lines. You need to find him," and Derek thought he was experiencing guilt. Derek turned on his heels, Garcia knowing better to stop him let him go. Luckily, he found a nurse on his way down, asking the woman is she knew of the dinner Hotch had been talking about. Ann and Steve's was ten miles south of the hospital. Derek forced his way into one of the search groups descending upon that specific area. On the way he met a kid name James whose mom and dad owned the place, he was looking for them as well as his brother Jason. Derek' heart went out to him. When they pulled up, there was no sign of there ever being a dinner there. "Mom, dad, Jason!"
"Reid! Reid answer me, Pretty boy! I'm here! Answer me!" The day was running out quickly, Derek grabbed a flashlight out of one of the trucks. He didn't care if it took him all night, he was going to find him.
---
Spencer was not too keen on whether or not he was alive...it seemed as though he kept going in and out of consciousness. He could feel a heavy pressure on top of his chest, and he couldn't move any of his limbs. Not to mention the taste of copper was sitting overwhelmingly in his mouth. Spencer choked on the liquid, coughing violently as the small amount of sun he could see began to fade. Spencer could hear people around him, calling out for survivors, but he couldn't answer them. Spencer knew if they didn't find him now, that he going to die. With the last bit of strength he had left in his whole body he cried out:
"Here! I'm over here! Please...someone help me!" No one came. Spencer did what he could to not panic, but the helpless feeling began to sink in and his heart rate began to pick up.
"Morgan! Morgan! Morgan!" Spencer called out his name, over and over again. He couldn't stop himself. No one was going to find him, he was buried practically out of sight, but calling Derek's name gave him comfort. Spencer didn't know how many times he had saved him from danger while on the job, and off. "Morgan, I'm so sorry Morgan! I knew...I knew! Rossi told me...I knew...."
"Morgan! Morgan! Morgan!" Spencer called out his name, over and over again. He couldn't stop himself. No one was going to find him, he was buried practically out of sight, but calling Derek's name gave him comfort. Spencer didn't know how many times he had saved him from danger while on the job, and off. "Morgan, I'm so sorry Morgan! I knew...I knew! Rossi told me...I knew...."
"Is someone down there?" Spencer could hear an unfamiliar voice calling out to him. Bright light of a flashlight beaming down into his face. "Yes, yes I'm here!"
"We're coming for you, son! Tell me your name!"
"Spencer, my name is Spencer Reid...."
"Well, Spencer Reid just you hold on! We're coming to get you."
---
No one, and I mean absolutely no one they had found so far had been alive. Their lifeless bodies being carted away. Derek began to lose himself. Seeing the pain James had gone through at losing his entire family.
"We've got a live one! I need help, he's going in and out!" Tucker, the lead searcher called out, peering over a large mas of debris. Derek picked himself up. Running full force about ten yards to where four other men were working as quickly as they could. Tucker's face, however, was full of concern.
"Mr. Spencer, we're coming to get you!" Derek's heart stopped completely, what were the chances? Derek didn't care.
"Spence, Spencer, is that you?" Derek hollered as loud as his voice would go, helping to remove the large slab of concrete that laid on top of his fragile body. Dark eyes caught hold of a familiar satchel.
"Reid, I'm here!" One more tug and pull, and Derek fell to the ground in a heap of exhaustion. There was Reid's body, bloody and just barely breathing.
"I'm losing his pulse!" Tucker called out, paramedics lifting him onto a stretcher, eyes rolling towards the back of his head.
"Reid, Reid stay with me!" Derek jumped into the ambulance without a second thought. Crying out to the unresponsive form, begging Reid to just stay with him. The paramedics placed and oxygen mask over his face, the grip Derek had on Reid's hand tightening.
"He's got some internal bleeding, Charlie. Speed it up!"
"Come on, Spencer. You've survived so much more than this, pretty boy. Come on, you can't leave me now. Not when we've got somethings to talk about...."
Five Day's Later
Spencer opened his eyes, only to snap them shut again. The florescent lighting penetrating down made his head hurt. Slowly, he adjusted, blinking in rapid session to gain his sight back.
"Oh my Gosh! Reid, honey!" Garcia's wailing voice penetrated Spencer's sensitive ear drums, and he flinched away at the sudden volume. Spencer was confused, but also happy to see a familiar face. Turning his head slightly to the side he saw a familiar figure slumped in one of the hospital chairs, Derek's head was face down in Spencer's bed as he snored softly.
"He hasn't slept in four days," Garcia whispered, running her fingers through Spencer's hair as she was afraid to touch him. "Where is everyone?"
"Hotch is in the room three doors down, Rossi is keeping him company...and from doing work. JJ and Prentiss were here, they just went down to get something to eat...and stud muffin here hasn't left," Garcia commented, head tilting in Derek's direction. Face over joyed to see that Spencer was, in fact, okay. It had been touch and go for a while there, and the Doctor doubted if Spencer would have the use of his left arm in the future, but here Spencer Reid was, alive against all odds. "Do you think I could have a minute with him alone, Garcia?"
"Of course." The jubilant redhead lifted to her feet, closing the door before exiting. Spencer knew it had to have taken everything in her power not to ease drop on them. Spencer didn't care about that now. All he could see was Derek,and all he could remember was how things still weren't okay between them. Spencer's near death experience only postponed their oncoming conversation, but he wasn't worried about that either right now. Looking down to his right hand he could see it was bruised, and his hands were scraped of flesh, but his right arm looked much better than his left at current. Spencer's left arm was in a cast from his wrist all the way up to where his shoulder began. He didn't even want to try to move the appendage. With his right hand, he caressed Derek's own warm hand. The man only groaned slightly as he mumbled.
"I told you, Garcia, I'm not leaving," he grumbled, eyes still closed. This caused Spencer to laugh a little, noticing the extreme pain doing so caused. Peering down, he took note of the bandages wrapped securely around his ribs, wondering to himself how many he broke.
"I'm not trying to make you leave, Morgan," Spencer answered softly, waiting for a response. He got one almost instantly. Derek's head shot up, hands rubbing at his eyes as he stared at the other man in disbelief. Mouth agape as Spencer merely smiled at him, Derek leaning in for a tight embrace.
"You're alive," he breathed, grip tight as Spencer did his best to return the gesture. There was a lot to be said about Derek Morgan, too much to get into detail Spencer supposed.
"If, uh, I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were crying right now."
"Yeah, well, you'd be too," he countered, and Spencer just held onto him.
"Listen, Reid, I'm so sorry about everything."
"I know. Rossi called me, I mean I didn't answer, but I got it. I wish I hadn't jumped the gun in assuming that it was just you thinking that way...I never thought about what had happened to you to maybe persuade your opinion."
"That's still not excuse, Reid. What Buford did to me, that's no excuse. He was just a sick son of a bitch. So, believe me when I say I'm sorry, Reid. I am. I really, really am."
"I know you wouldn't be here with me if you weren't."
"No, I'm here with you because I love you, kid. I'm here because you're my best friend, and I care about you more than I do a lot of things. You've been there for me when no one else was, when I didn't want anyone to be there. I don't want that to end between us. I don't want you to look at me and think that I hate you, Spencer, because I could never hate you. Never," Derek's words caused his eyes to swell, and while he was filled to the brim with emotion, Spencer couldn't find it in him to say anything.
"We'll figure this out, Reid, I promise."
"I know, Morgan. I believe you." Spencer gave him the best smile he could muster at the time, happy to see a smile spread across his Derek's face. Spencer placed his damaged hand on his shoulder, light brown eyes heavy with sleep.
"You going to be here when I wake up again?"
"You know I am."
"Good."
"I told you, Garcia, I'm not leaving," he grumbled, eyes still closed. This caused Spencer to laugh a little, noticing the extreme pain doing so caused. Peering down, he took note of the bandages wrapped securely around his ribs, wondering to himself how many he broke.
"I'm not trying to make you leave, Morgan," Spencer answered softly, waiting for a response. He got one almost instantly. Derek's head shot up, hands rubbing at his eyes as he stared at the other man in disbelief. Mouth agape as Spencer merely smiled at him, Derek leaning in for a tight embrace.
"You're alive," he breathed, grip tight as Spencer did his best to return the gesture. There was a lot to be said about Derek Morgan, too much to get into detail Spencer supposed.
"If, uh, I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were crying right now."
"Yeah, well, you'd be too," he countered, and Spencer just held onto him.
"Listen, Reid, I'm so sorry about everything."
"I know. Rossi called me, I mean I didn't answer, but I got it. I wish I hadn't jumped the gun in assuming that it was just you thinking that way...I never thought about what had happened to you to maybe persuade your opinion."
"That's still not excuse, Reid. What Buford did to me, that's no excuse. He was just a sick son of a bitch. So, believe me when I say I'm sorry, Reid. I am. I really, really am."
"I know you wouldn't be here with me if you weren't."
"No, I'm here with you because I love you, kid. I'm here because you're my best friend, and I care about you more than I do a lot of things. You've been there for me when no one else was, when I didn't want anyone to be there. I don't want that to end between us. I don't want you to look at me and think that I hate you, Spencer, because I could never hate you. Never," Derek's words caused his eyes to swell, and while he was filled to the brim with emotion, Spencer couldn't find it in him to say anything.
"We'll figure this out, Reid, I promise."
"I know, Morgan. I believe you." Spencer gave him the best smile he could muster at the time, happy to see a smile spread across his Derek's face. Spencer placed his damaged hand on his shoulder, light brown eyes heavy with sleep.
"You going to be here when I wake up again?"
"You know I am."
"Good."
***
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