Morgan winced as he attempted to put his bag in the overhead bin. The effects of their latest caseremained, blurring his eyes for a moment with pain.
"You know," came a voice from behind him, "It's not recommended to travel on an airplane with a concussion."
"I don't have a concussion," Morgan replied, rubbing his eyes with his hand.
"Are you sure? You're certainly displaying all of the signs of a concussion. Are you dizzy?"
"No, I just have a headache," he retorted, finally turning to see who was talking to him.
The young man who stood in the aisle stared at him, fumbling slightly with his purple scarf.
"Sorry to intrude, just wanted to make sure you were okay," the man mumbled.
"It's fine," Morgan said, slightly taken aback, "Um, am I in your way?"
The man gestured towards the seats in front of Morgan as he looked at his ticket. "That's my seat by the window."
Morgan moved out of the way, motioning for the man to move. He was about to close the overhead bin when he reached up and grabbed his badge- never safe to leave that laying around.
He sat down quickly, it in his pocket.
"Police?" asked the man, who then looked away almost instantly.
"Bomb squad," Morgan answered, slightly intrigued by this man who couldn't help but ask questions. He reached for the man's hand, shaking it politely. "Derek Morgan."
"Spencer Reid."
