Sing Me to Sleep, a criminal minds fanfic

A/N: Inspired by this prompt acquired by OTP Prompts on Tumblr:

Imagine your OTP slow-dancing to "Asleep" by The Smiths in their bedroom on a rainy, stormy night. Imagine their fingers interlocking as Person B puts their head on Person A's shoulder or chest (depending on height difference) and softly starts to cry. Imagine Person A's arms tightening around Person B and Person A gently running their fingers through B's hair to comfort them. Does Person B calm down or do they burst into tears in A's arms?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds.

"I've been thinking a lot about death lately."

Morgan set his jaw and swallowed gruffly at this remark. "Stop that," he muttered. His fingers tightened around the folds of the white blanket, bunching the fabric up in his grip. Reid's lips slowly pulled up into a smile, though it was without mirth, for there was nothing humorous about this situation.

"I used to wonder about it a lot before," he continued, his voice croaked and cracking in his exhaustion. His face, once before youthful and bright, was sunken in, cheekbones more pronounced than ever before, taking in a pallor hue that contrasted with the dark circles underlying his bloodshot eyes. His lips were chapped, his sandy hair was now dark brown with sweat and oil, spilling down his temples messily. Reid took in a deep, unsteady breath. "I didn't put too much thought into it. Just came with the job, you know? Thought I'd die in the field, from an Unsub. Like a gunshot or an explosion-"

"Kid," Morgan whispered, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Please, just stop.

"It was just always in the back of my mind," Reid said, a pale hand reaching for Morgan's dark one, absentmindedly stroking Morgan's pinkie with his index finger. "The closest I ever got to actually thinking I was going to die, like really think I was going to die, was when I was infected with Anthrax. And then I survived that, and I think I just foolishly believed that I was going to survive anything that came my way. And look at me now; a brilliant mind, infected with an inoperable brain tumor. It's laughably ironic, really."

"Spencer." It came out as a broken plea now. Morgan pulled his hand away from Reid's reach and rubbed his forehead, opening his eyes narrowly. They were brighter than before. "Stop."

"I'm going to die, Derek," Reid said, and it was so matter-of-fact, almost indifferent. Morgan could have hit him if he didn't already look like he was going to break. "And it's going to be soon, and… We need to talk about it."

"No!" Morgan suddenly yelled, leaning forward on the bed, eyes open and spitting fire at the man in the bed. Reid almost cringed back into his pillows at the ferocious anger erupting from his boyfriend. "No, we don't! Cause you're not going to die!"

Reid scoffed, glancing away from the glare Morgan was sending him. "That's ridiculous-"

"No, you're being ridiculous!" Morgan bellowed, a heavy hand descended on the mattress with a loud thump, jostling the bed-ridden doctor. Hazel eyes turned back to meet chocolate brown. "God, Spencer, what makes you think I want to talk about this?! That I want to talk about you being sick and-and the fact that-" He stopped with a choked sob here, pressing his lips together harshly to make sure it didn't escape, and turned away, blinking furiously to fight the consistent stinging in his eyes. It was with a wobbly voice, thick with tears, when he spoke again, "The fact that next time I have a birthday, you have a birthday, our anniversary, or Christmas, or Halloween, you won't be here?"

Reid swallowed, his lips pursing as he did, and sat up as best as he could on weak arms. "Derek," he whispered. "Derek. Come here."

"No."

Reid almost smiled at the stubborn, almost-childlike tone Morgan took on. "Come here," he repeated gently, prompting Morgan to look up, opening his arms in invitation when he did. Hesitantly, Morgan stood from the chair he placed at the bedside and slowly climbed in next to Reid, the younger man shifting over to make more room. Soon they were in position, Morgan's temple resting on Reid's shoulder and Reid's chin on Morgan's forehead, Morgan's arm around Reid's thinning waist and Reid's around Morgan's back. It wasn't a common resting position between them, but they reveled in the comfort of it nonetheless.

Morgan turned his face to nestle in the crook of Reid's neck, closing his eyes. Though the man in his arms was all but wasting away before his eyes, he still felt so incredibly warm, and Morgan could almost fool himself into believing that these last few months hadn't happened, that Reid did not get diagnosed with a glioblastoma, that he wasn't living on borrowed time, that he was healthy and in Morgan's arms after a late night of passion and murmured sweet nothings, and that they were going to wake up in the morning and head to the bureau like before, when everything was fine. Everything was so easy before.

"I need you to know, Derek," Reid muttered, and the illusion was broken by the weak voice. "That… when I do leave… if it is at all possible… I'll miss you."

Morgan sighed shakily, opening his eyes and tightening his hold on Reid's waist as much as he could without hurting him. "I don't want to talk about that," he grunted.

"Okay," Reid answered, running long fingers up and down the back of Morgan's neck, the delicate touch soothing Morgan, nostalgically reminding Morgan of when his mother would softly stroke his scalp to comfort him when he had nightmares after his father was killed. He sighed again.

Reid abruptly stopped, causing Morgan to cautiously raise himself up to look into Reid's eyes. "Spence?"

"Derek, I was…" Reid paused, furrowing his brows as he cleared his throat, appearing at almost a loss for words. "I was wondering… if you could do me a favor."

His interest and curiosity peaked, Morgan sat up all the way, taking one of Reid's hands into his own. "Anything, babe. What is it?"

"Uhh…" Reid awkwardly cleared his throat again, his lips smacking as he opened his mouth to speak. "I was wondering… could we dance, one more time?"

Morgan gaped at the man, completely taken aback by this request. He certainly was not expecting it; Reid had hardly been a dancer throughout the time they spent dating, encouraging Morgan to have fun with JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia while he sat back and watched contentedly. Dancing was not Reid's thing, it was Morgan's. Any dancing they did was done in the privacy of their shared home, and usually was silly movements to the songs on the radio or Morgan's iPod. "Dance?"

"I just…" Reid said, somehow managing to turn red from embarrassment even through his pale-white complexion. "I just wanted to know how it felt like, at least one time, a real dance… We've never really done it before, and I just-"

"Spencer," Morgan interjected, smiling at his boyfriend's rambling. "I would love to."

Reid exhaled sharply at that answer, and Morgan's breath was taken away as the following grin split across Reid's worn face, filling Reid and even the whole space around them with such a happiness that had been absent for quite a while and missed dearly. Morgan chuckled.

"Hang on," he murmured, patting Reid's hand as he stood up from the bed, walking over to the stereo perched on their dresser. He picked up his iPod and slid it into the slot, choosing the music app and putting the songs into shuffle. Immediately the intro to "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" came flooding out of the speakers, and Morgan turned back to Reid to see the younger man's brow quirked and an amused glint in his eyes.

"Aerosmith, huh?" Reid teased. Morgan huffed a breath of laughter and walked back over to Reid's side, extending a hand.

"May I have this dance, pretty boy?"

Reid smiled fondly at the pet name, and threw back his covers. "I'm going to need a bit more support than usual, I'm afraid," Reid said apologetically.

"I won't let you fall," Morgan answered with a grin, and Reid smirked back in turn, placing his hand in Morgan's. The older man helped him up carefully, enveloping the genius in his arms once he was in standing position, holding him up on weak legs. "I gotcha."

Reid's free arm quickly wrapped around Morgan's neck, and Morgan braced a secure arm around Reid's waist, pulling him close, their hands still joined together. And slowly, they began to sway to Aerosmith, Morgan holding Reid up as they danced.

They spoke as they danced, speaking of their friends and family. They recalled fond and happy and funny memories, such as when they met Rossi's daughter for the first time; when Prentiss got drunk and thought that Reid was Garcia, revealing juicy secrets about JJ; when Hotch introduced his current wife Ashley, who proved time and time again that she loved Hotch and Jack and was here to stay; when JJ and Will announced that they were expecting again; when Garcia stammered through her vows to Sam but still got through the "I do's" without fainting; when Clooney had been a part of their lives before he passed away three years ago; when Morgan's family practically shrieked with delight once they got past the initial shock of Morgan being gay and finding out that it was Reid who had stolen his heart; when Diana Reid called Morgan her son for the first time. They talked about everything.

The music just washed over them as they spoke and laughed and danced, and by the fourth song Reid was now in Morgan's arms, his strength having faltered a while ago, his arms circled around Morgan's neck loosely and his forehead pressed into Morgan's cheek. Morgan's movements were slow, arms holding up Reid's too light form from the underside of his knees and his lower back. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and at once the next song began, filling the room with the intro piano chords of what Morgan recognized as "Asleep" by The Smiths.

Sing me to sleep

I'm tired and I

I want to go to bed

Sing me to sleep

And then leave me alone

Don't try to wake me in the morning

'Cause I will be gone

Morgan's breath hitched, and his steps faltered ever so slightly. He bit his lip and resumed his steps, but Reid was still a profiler, even in moments like these. Wordlessly, he reached up to Morgan's face with one hand, cupping Morgan's cheek and stroking the skin there with his thumb.

Sing to me

I don't want to wake up

On my own anymore

Don't feel bad for me

I want you to know

Deep in the cell of my heart

I really want to go

There is another world

There is a better world

Well, there must be...

"Derek?"

A trembling breath, and Morgan swallowed roughly. He plastered a smile on his face, though it felt more like a grimace and he knew Reid would be able to see right past it, and glanced down at his boyfriend.

He was right. Reid did not look convinced at Morgan's display. He blinked, and pressed his hand further into Morgan's face, holding Morgan's gaze. "I'm still here, you know. I'm still here."

A watery laugh bubbled out of Morgan's throat, and he sniffed, blinking past the onslaught of tears that suddenly blurred his line of vision. He nodded stiffly. "I know- I know that."

"Derek, you have to know," Reid whispered. He licked his lips as Morgan continued to sway. "You have to know that I'm going to fight. To be able to spend a few more minutes, a few more seconds with you, here with you… I'm going to fight tooth and nail for that. I won't leave you alone until I absolutely have to."

"I just wish you didn't have to leave at all," Morgan confessed, stopping the dance, just standing there, his dying boyfriend cradled in his arms, a hard and painful lump squeezing his throat, and unshed tears glittering in his brown eyes. Reid watched him, looking completely mesmerized.

Bye bye

Bye...

"Spence-" his voice broke. He couldn't help the stray tears that slid past his lower lashline and trailed down his cheek, the affected skin warm, then cold. Reid wiped them away, leaving behind only warmth. "I don't want to have to miss you."

Reid remained silent, his dry eyes staring up at Morgan's wet ones, filled with such a heartbreaking love for the man before him that Morgan nearly gave in to the rush of sorrow that was spreading through his body, attacking him at his very core. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to speak to Reid like this, hold Reid and dance with Reid like it was going to be his final time doing so. At that thought he brought Reid closer, allowing the younger man to nestle his face in the space underneath Morgan's chin, while Morgan rested his chin into Reid's unkempt hair, his lips pressed against the hairline.

"I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose you." The words were muffled against Reid's skin, quivering, underlined with such devastation that could have made Morgan stumble had he not been carrying Reid in his arms. Reid shook, burrowing his face deeper into Morgan's embrace, and Morgan felt the distinct sensation of Reid's lips brushing against his neck. "I don't want to lose you," Morgan repeated, this time in the resemblance of a whimper, and he was unable to hold back the sob that ripped through his throat, his tears slipping down his face and past his jaw, disappearing into Reid's hair.

"You won't. You won't lose me."

Morgan broke then, eyes screwed shut as he buried his face into Reid's scalp, but the tears fell anyway, heaving great sobs as he finally cried, finally accepted that Reid's body was getting colder and colder as the days went on, that his time was running out. He hugged him tighter, murmuring semi-incoherently of words previously left unspoken, or words that he regretted not saying enough, compensating for the time they had left together. He felt Reid smile, and then felt moisture on his neck as Reid also began to cry.

"I love you too, Derek."

They fell asleep in each other's arms that night, Morgan only separating from Reid for a short moment to turn the music off before slipping into bed next to his boyfriend. He cradled him in his arms and reveled in his warmth, which was quickly receding, whispering the words "I love you" over and over and over again until they both fell asleep, the spark of their lingering kiss tingling their lips.

The next morning, Morgan woke, and at once felt something different. He pressed his clenched eyes into Reid's hair, tears rushing out with a reverence, cracked and broken cries and sobs pouring out of him as he shook and held Reid tightly in his arms.

He was no longer warm.