A/N: The original version of this story was published to my Wattpad and contained a somewhat smutty ending. I rewrote the ending to make it more appropriate for this site, but you can check out the original one on my Wattpad if you want. I do not own Criminal Minds or "When I Was Your Man" by Bruno Mars.
A soft melody floats through the apartment building as Derek Morgan makes his way to the third floor, the knots in his stomach growing ever tighter with each step he takes. He's walked these halls hundreds of times over the course of two years, making his way into the space that he shared with his loving boyfriend. Each time had felt familiar to him, yet new and exciting in a way that he just couldn't put into words.
Derek stops just outside of room number twenty-two, debating on whether to knock or use his key one last time. The melody still rings out, and he opts for using his key so as not to disturb the man playing inside. He sticks the piece of silver into its hole and turns the knob, taking a deep breath as he walks inside.
The room smells like a mixture of old books, lavender, and brown sugar cinnamon candles - the expensive kind that Spencer loves oh-so-much. Derek remembers how he'd yelled at his boyfriend two weeks ago for spending thirty dollars on one of them from Bath and Body Works, wishing he could go back and buy out the entire store to make this all up to him. Their argument the previous night had been a brutal one. Words had cut deep, picture frames had been broken, and Derek had stormed out in a fit of rage, eventually finding himself asleep on Penelope Garcia's couch.
He approaches the piano quietly, taking in one last time the beautiful image of a tall, well-groomed man with soft, curly, brown hair cascading freely behind him as his long, delicate fingers dance across the keys. What Derek would give to hold those hands in his one last time...
"Spence?" He calls out. The man behind the piano doesn't miss a beat, but Derek knows he heard him. "Listen, I'm just gonna get my stuff, okay? I'll be out of your hair after that." When he doesn't get a reply, Derek makes his way into the bedroom and begins packing a bag. He rummages through the drawers and closet, picking out his things as he goes and letting his fingertips graze over those of his ex-partner's. One shirt catches his attention - a gray tee-shirt with Princess Leia on the front, the quote "I love you" written in a cursive font. The shirt was meant to be a matching set, the other with Han Solo on the front and his famous response, "I know," scrawled underneath. Yet this one shirt hangs in the closet all by itself, the result of Derek's ego. He'd refused to get the one to go with it, muttering something about how lame Star Wars is. Looking back, he would watch every single movie a thousand times over to make Spencer happy.
Frustrated with himself, Derek crosses the room and opens the drawer on his side of the bed, pulling out his pistol and placing it neatly into his bag, along with an extra magazine. The coldness of the steel in his hand reminds him of how he promised Spencer he'd take him to the gun range and teach him to shoot with accuracy, but never did because he was too impatient to deal with his five-percent accuracy rating. If he could somehow go back in time, he'd spend every single free moment he had making sure that Spencer could protect himself when he wasn't around to do so.
Derek makes his way into the bathroom, quickly grabbing his razor, deodorant, and toothbrush. He glances into the shower for just a second, recalling that one thing that Spencer always wanted to try but he always refused. Now, he'd do it every single night if he had that luxury. He wonders how long it will be before another man will be putting his toothbrush in the holder, his underwear in the top drawer, and his heart in Spencer's hand. The thought is too much. He has to get out.
As Derek makes his way back into the bedroom and towards the living room, something crunches beneath his feet. He stops, bends down, and examines a tiny vial that he had broken the night before in his anger. Derek had found the drugs on accident, when searching through Spencer's end table for a flashlight to fix the kitchen faucet. Without thinking ahead of himself, Derek started screaming at Spencer and threw the vial of liquid onto the floor, crushing it and its contents into the beige carpet.
"I can't believe this!"
"Derek, I can explain..."
"No, you're pathetic! I should've known you weren't clean. Rossi told me he was concerned and I brushed it off. I told him you were just stressed over the job. God, I can't believe I was so stupid!"
"I - I..."
"Save it, Spencer. Doing this makes you weak! You're nothing but a coward! You can't face what Tobias did to you, so you just hide behind the drugs!"
"It's not like that!"
"Whatever, Spencer. I can't take this anymore. If dilaudid makes you feel sooo much better, maybe you should let it hold you tonight when you wake up screaming from one of your stupid nightmares! I'm done!"
Derek plummets back into reality as a warm tear streams down his cheek. The night that his team had found Reid in that cemetery - beaten, scared, alone - Derek had promised that he would never let anyone hurt him again; that he'd be there every step of the way and make sure he stayed safe. Now, that promise seems like a million light-years away, and is just another thing that Derek so desperately wishes he could go back and make right.
Shaking off the guilt that weighs him down like six hundred bricks stacked on top of his head, Derek walks into the living room and chances one last glance at Spencer. His heart aches like no other as he inches closer to the front door, knowing that it will be the last time he walks through it ever again. He really messed things up this time, and there is nothing he can do to change it now.
"Spence? I'm leaving now. Hey, I know you don't want to hear it, but if there's anything I can do for you..." He trails off, figuring he doesn't need to finish in order to get his point across. His heart sinks when Spencer doesn't answer, and he's got his hand on the doorknob when the piano suddenly stops playing.
"There's one thing," Spencer says, not turning to look as his entire life is about to walk out and leave him with nothing. "Then you can go and you'll never have to see me again. I already requested a transfer at work."
"Anything," Derek breathes, sitting his bag down on the floor and approaching Spencer cautiously. "I'll do anything you ask."
"Sing with me."
"What?" Derek asks, taken aback by the request.
"Just once. For old time's sake."
Derek smiles at the back of Spencer's head sadly, recalling the one thing that they had that no one could ever take from them. Every night, after a particularly rough case or just a long day of paperwork at the office, Spencer would sit and play the piano and Derek would sing. Both of them were surprisingly good at it, and it was the one secret they'd managed to keep from their team of profiling co-workers for all of these years.
"Okay," Derek finally agrees, cautiously sitting down on the bench next to Spencer. The close proximity immediately speeds up his heart, but he tries to ignore the feeling.
"Do you know the one that I was just playing?" Derek nods to indicate that he does, and Spencer starts to play the same progression that had floated into the hallway minutes before.
"Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now. Our song on the radio, but it don't sound the same."
Derek focuses on his voice rather than the words, making sure each note comes out smooth and in tune. He continues singing as he fixates on the way Spencer's hands move about the piano as if it is the only thing they are meant to do.
As the song continues, Derek starts to reflect back on all of the things he should have done with Spencer, but didn't because it was either too embarrassing, too nerdy, or he simply didn't want to. There was that time he was supposed to go to the chess tournament and watch Spencer play, but had "got hung up late at the office." Spencer won first place. He was so proud when he brought the trophy home, and all Derek had done was congratulate him and go to bed.
For his birthday last year, all Spencer wanted was to go to the museum. Derek had taken him to a football game instead. Spencer had clearly hated it, but he tried so hard to be happy and just enjoy his company. Two months later, they had an argument over which comforter set to get for their bedroom. Derek had won.
"Too young, too dumb to realize that I should have bought you flowers, and held your hand. Should have gave you all my hours when I had the chance."
In September of last year, the BAU had a case in Chicago. Spencer practically begged to meet Derek's mother and sisters while they were in town, but he refused because he hadn't come out to his family yet. Spencer looked hurt, but he understood. He always understood, and he never questioned why. He just loved, and he loved a lot.
Three years before that, Spencer failed his gun qualifications at work. Agent Greenaway had pleaded with everyone not to bring it up, but Derek had strolled over and handed him a whistle, telling him to use it if he were ever in danger. He'll never forget the humiliated expression on his face as he yanked it off. That was before they fell in love.
"I hope he buys you flowers. I hope he holds your hand. Gives you all his hours, when he has the chance. Takes you to every party, 'cause I remember how much you love to dance. Do all the things I should have done when I was your man."
The last few notes of the song fade out, and Derek realizes that he's crying again. He turns to look at Spencer, who is staring down at the piano in silence. Neither of them want the moment to end, but neither of them are sure how to ask the other to stay.
"Spencer, I'm so sorry."
"It was stupid of me to take the drugs," Spencer says at the exact same time, sniffles of his own evident in his voice.
"No, it wasn't stupid, Spence. I don't know what you're going through, but I should have been there. Maybe I could have -"
"You couldn't have done anything to stop it, Der. The nightmares are getting worse. And I can't talk to you about it because you just think I'm weak, and -"
"Baby, I do not think you're weak!" Derek retorts, absentmindedly using the pet name as he wraps an arm around Spencer's shoulder. "Anyone who can go through that and survive is so much stronger than I'll ever be. Never say that you can't talk to me, okay? You can. You always can."
The two sit in silence for a few minutes, nothing to be heard aside from the occasional sob and sniffle of the nose. "Can I at least see before I go?" Derek finally asks. Spencer shakes his head feverishly, already starting to pull away from Derek's strong grip. "Come on, Spence. You got your last request. What about mine?"
Spencer stops struggling, and eventually looks back to Derek with tearful eyes. "O-okay," he finally agrees, looking down in shame as Derek nods and pulls up his shirt sleeve. A second later, soft fingertips trail over the sore bend of his arm. He flinches, and the sensation is gone.
"Don't. Don't stop." Spencer's voice cracks as he uses his other hand to grab for Derek and pull his fingers back to the spot where he'd been injecting the dilaudid into his veins.
"Baby..." Derek coos, now rubbing small circles over the area as gently as he can. "I'm hurting you."
"The only way you're hurting me is if you walk out that door. Please, don't stop." Derek feels his heart shatter into another piece every time Spencer flinches at his touch, but he doesn't stop.
After a few minutes, he leans down and plants gentle kisses on each and every track mark, stopping only when he feels soft trembles coming from the man next to him. Derek lifts his head to see that Spencer is crying hard. "Spence? Did I do something wrong?" The other man shakes his head, turning his face so that Derek can't see him.
"I was going to kill myself tonight," Spencer finally blurts out, sticking a hand in his pocket and pulling out a vial filled with a liquid that could only be dilaudid. "Here," he says, handing it over to Derek with shaking hands. "You were gone, and the thought of facing this alone was just too much…" He trails off, a fresh layer of tears streaming down his cheeks.
Derek stares at the vial in his hand in disbelief, looking between it and Spencer. "Spence...you...I…" he stops, unable to find the right words and instead sitting the bottle down on top of the piano and pulling Spencer closer to him. The younger man buries his face into his chest, wrapping his tiny arm around Derek's waist and holding on for dear life. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have gotten mad. I should have -"
"N-no," Spencer interrupts, sitting up and unsuccessfully wiping his tears from his face. "It isn't your fault, Der. Just...just don't leave. I need you."
"Spencer...you deserve better than me. You deserve someone who will be there for you instead of getting mad and storming off. You could have died because of me."
"You're wrong, Derek. I'm here now because of you. I would have done it a long time ago if I didn't have you. I've thought about it...I've thought about it so many times." Spencer's tears come out faster and his sobs louder as he wraps both arms around Derek's torso, silently begging him not to go anywhere. "Please, just hold me one more time."
Derek returns the hug, trying to hold his own tears back as his shirt becomes wet with his boyfriend's. "I'm not going anywhere, Spence. It was stupid of me to ever consider leaving you. We can fight this together, but only if you'll let me stay." A small nod answers Derek's question, and he gently picks Spencer up in his arms and makes his way to their bedroom. He nuzzles his chin into Spencer's soft hair when two small hands wrap around the back of his neck. Derek gently places Spencer down on the bed, tucking the blankets securely around the skinny man. Spencer's eyes show fear when Derek begins to back out of the room, afraid that he will leave and never come back.
"I'll be right back," Derek promises, "I just have to take care of something first."
He returns just moments later, the small glass bottle clutched in his fist. Derek drops to his knees next to the bed, bringing a hand up to brush Spencer's hair away from his forehead. "Baby?" he asks softly, "Where are your needles?" When Spencer doesn't answer or even attempt to open his eyes, Derek tries again. "I'm not mad at you. I just want to put them somewhere safe until tomorrow, when I can get rid of them properly." Eventually, Spencer gestures towards the mattress underneath of him.
Keeping one hand on top of his head, Derek uses the other to carefully feel around underneath of where Spencer is lying, being sure not to stick himself as he pulls out three long needles. "This is all?" he whispers. "There are no more drugs?" Spencer shakes his head. It isn't good enough for Derek. "Spence?" Derek warns, his voice still soft but a little more demanding.
"There's no more," Spencer says as he opens his eyes. There is a hint of desperation in them, and that is how Derek knows he is telling the truth. "I promise."
"Okay." Derek accepts his answer, walking around to his side of the bed and placing all of the items inside a small, black safe that only he knows the combination to. After making sure the door is securely locked, Derek crawls into bed and scoots as close to Spencer as he can get, intertwining their hands in front of them and pulling his body into his chest.
"I love you, Spencer."
"I love you too, Derek."