Title: Solace of You ¼
Author: Dri
Pairing: Morgan/Reid, always.
Rating: R
Summary: You run.
Spoilers: Profiler Profiled and a blink-and-you-miss-it one from 100.
Author's note: Part of the universe created in my "Four times…" fic, Solace of You takes place right after Waves of Energy, but can be read as a stand-alone. It's also halfway done, going through beta. I'll be posting a segment every couple of days or so. Bear with me, please.
Always, my heartfelt thanks to my betas, Ana and Kelly, who put up with my changing sentences every five minutes without a complaint. To have such a lovely pair of betas holding my hand through all this... Ladies, you know you rock my fanfiction world! And another special thanks to anariazanyr for providing the information on Morgan's mother's birthday.
Not mine. If they were, the events in this fic ( and in so many others that I've read and love ) would be cannon.
Comments are loved, framed and cherished!
*****
The Solace of You 1/4
They can hurt me and jail my body
I'll still be free
I've got the solace og you
Living Color - Solace of You
Sometimes you dream you run.
Depending on the kind of day you've had, scenes may vary: lush green landscapes or a desert beach with clear blue water; busy streets packed with cars or the quiet neighborhoods that house your properties; a few times even the backside of the UNSUB of the week you set chase after stretch lazily and endless ahead of you.
These dreams are timeless; you are never in any hurry to get anywhere. You never get tired because you somewhat float from place to place; your feet never touch the ground and you never as much as break a sweat. In your dreams you are not necessarily invincible, but you are not afraid of taking any risks. You know if things get ugly, you can always blink yourself awake and carry on with your day.
The little aftermath of adventure tastes tart and refreshing on your tongue, and when your day starts, your gait is steadier yet lighter than usual, your mood is good, and you make it your mission to assure everyone you cross paths with has a day as great as yours: you smile more brightly at the secretaries and receptionists on your way to the office, you treat the girls to chocolate ( extra bars to Garcia ) and Reid to extra cups of coffee without giving him any shit about the amount of sugar he spoons into it. You ask Rossi about his upcoming book and cases he worked before your time at the BAU. You stand invisible guard between Hotch's door and the rest of the bureau ( your team included ), so the man can have some space after the hellish months he has had.
But your real mission for the day is to keep Reid smiling and safe by your side.
You don't let anyone ( yourself included ) slip any neglected paperwork into Reid's pile of reports. You tease him less, touch him more, and dare the other agents in the office to say anything about your touching him on the small of his back as you guide him out the door when your team is assigned a new case.
You dive into the case with the same enthusiasm you dive inside of Reid when this very same case is closed and the two of you are back at your place, in your bed, with your naked body covering your lover's. After everything is said and done, no matter how gruesome the case was, with Reid snuggled up and asleep against your side, clinging to you the same way you cling to him, you can finally close your eyes and rest assured the bad dreams won't come for you tonight; you have Reid's to chase away.
And in your dream you run without a care, without a destination. You never look back.
Those are the good dreams.
*****
The rustle of bed clothes being pushed aside makes you reach out your hand to your bed partner. The sheets are cold and not indented and neither is the pillow.
You open your eyes and call Reid's name. You wait, but there's no calling back.
You look over the door to the ensuitebathroom; it's closed and unlit.
There's, however, the faint light of early morning illuminating the open door to the hallway.
You leave the bed. Reid wouldn't stay in the dark. To find him, you have to find the light first.
The darkness is so dense you use the rough and smooth textures of the floor under your bare feet as a compass to guide you through the halls and rooms of your house. All the while you are calling for Reid without any kind of answer from your lover.
Half way down the stairs, you hear Clooney barking in the kitchen. There's light filtering through the doorway. Reid should be there.
The kitchen is empty but for Clooney. The door to the backyard is wide open, yet Clooney hasn't attempted to go outside. He is sitting by the open door, barking at something beyond the fence surrounding your backyard.
You step onto the front stoop. Reid's name dies on your lips when you see what waits for you outside your townhouse.
You turn to your left, turn to your right and nothing changes.
Your manicured lawn, barbecue pit, benches and flowerbeds have given place to sprayed redbrick buildings and walls plastered with illegally hanging posters. There's dirton the curb and a bus stop nobody would dare to wait at late in the night. There are gangs' muscle cars, and gangbangers closing deals next to broken payphones and trash bins. Your dog's barking is smothered by the gangsta rap you swore off at the age of eighteen, when you left for college.
You try to leave again.
The electricity charging the air fires up your panic and you take a step back into the house. A hard object pushes back against your spine. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the door has closed.
You try the door handle, once, twice, until your other hand starts slamming its open palm against the wooden surface. You call Reid's name, Clooney is frantic behind the closed door. You feel the sting in your palm reverberating in the joint knot on your elbow. You trade palm for shoulder, you consider kicking the door open and out of your way; you know nothing will happen.
It isn't your life that is locked in.
It's you who have been locked out.
And Reid is somewhere out there, too.
Promising your dog you will be back, you resign yourself to what waits for you beyond your doorstep.
You have to find Reid and bring him back.
*****
You are running. You are calling Reid.
The park your parents used to take you and your sisters to is pristine and very well kept. There in the swings you see two kids, a boy and a girl without faces, but you can hear their joyful laughter. They distract you from your focus just for a moment, enough for you to see that they are not alone. There's a faceless woman playing with a toddler on a blanket on the ground,a picnic basket beside her. She has red hair. She turns her face, and if she had eyes, you would say she would be looking right at you.
A squeal from the swings makes you look back at the children. Boy and girl jump from the swing and run past you. The boy is smaller, but he sprints with more energy than the little girl. They run past the woman, and you overhear her telling them to be careful and not to fall. The kids pay no attention; all they do is say something that sounds suspiciously like "Daddy! Daddy!"
Fear pricks you behind your eyes and the back of your throat.
All you see before resuming your run is the blur of some black and blue beat cop uniform.
*****
You don't stop. You are running. You are calling Reid.
You cross the street, sidestep cars and an old lady, and almost slam your face on the wire fence that has appeared out of nowhere right in front of you. The bolt lock is open, and something morbid that starts bubbling up inside your belly makes you open the gate and step into the empty lot. You don't fear finding another body buried under tons of litter spread on the ground. You know Reid won't be there.
Still you look and search until you find the things that were stolen from you in your childhood. You are stepping over them, looking at them over your shoulder on your way out, always calling for Reid.
A flat football.
A bloody cop's cap and badge.
And an empty box of brightly colored crayons.
*****
You run past the cemetery.
You run past the Youth Center.
You run past the Police Department.
You don't have time to revisit those demons.
Reid! Reid!
*****
Your lungs are burning. All the dirt in the street should have broken the skin on the soles of your feet.
You should be bleeding. Your clothes should be filthy.
You feel disgusting.
You can't stop.
You haven't found Reid.
*****
All the ways lead you home. That is where you at last end up.
You slow down. You walk up the entryway to your mother's house.
You bend down to pick up the tanned leather messenger bag lying on the doorstep.
You pull the door open. A tall presence flashes before your eyes. It brushes against the skin on your arm, the same arm you are stretching out to catch hold of a bony, long fingered hand.
"Reid?"
Reid is walking past you, silent and defeated. He is not looking you in the eyes.
You move, positioning yourself between Reid and the door. You once again reach out to grab his arms and stop him when your eyes notice the other people in the room.
You recognize your sisters sitting side by side on your mother's outdated sofa. They are shaking their heads, looking at you with sympathy and without uttering a word.
You can see the disappointment shining in your mother's eyes as she mutters over and over again: You owe me grandchildren, a bunch of them.
Your daddy, large dead eyes and uniform stained with blood on the upper chest, is choking in his own blood, unable to voice his disappointment in you.
Your arms fall against your sides. Your lover brushes against you for the last time and walks out the door. You don't stop him; you finally accept what your falling in love is doing to your family, the only thing your mother has ever begged you not to.
Don't ever disgrace your father's name. Don't ever disgrace your father's name.
*****
Derek wakes up with a start and out of breath, limbs heavy and stiff, covered in sweat and blinded by the panic of having his arms empty. Instinct beats lethargy and he turns his head to his left, lips ready to call his lover's name if necessary.
Reid is still fast asleep with his back turned to Derek.
Derek rolls on his back, presses closed fists against his eyes and takes deep breaths that are supposed to be calming. However, the heaviness in his chest persists, and in his heart he knows there is just one thing he can do to effectively soothe his nerves.
Betraying everything he has ever believed in, Derek turns on his side and reaches out for Reid.
"Derek?" his lover mutters, squirming in his embrace.
"Hush, baby; go back to sleep," Derek commands softly, stilling Reid's attempts to roll over and face him. "It's okay. I've got you. I won't let you go."
Derek waits for hours. When he is sure Reid is deeply immersed back in sleep, Derek buries his nose in his lover's hair and pledges things he is still not ready to say while Reid is awake.
*****
There are times you dream you are running. You hate those dreams because they always take you back to the same place.
They always take you back home.
*****
End Part 1 of 4. Continue in Part 2.