Hey all!
I have been unable to write Facing the pain because I haven't had any ideas or time. I still wanted to give you something, so here it comes.
I have a feeling that I have a start of a Morgan/Reid series here, so let me know if you want to read more of these(and The Cold and The Darkness). :) Oh, and this takes place during the Revelations from the second season!
Enjoy!
The moment I saw you on the screen for the first time, I felt my heart being ripped into thousand pieces. The defeated look in your eyes. The hurt. The fear. The emptiness. It was something I knew I would never forget. And I remember swearing that if you didn't make it out alive, I would most definitely quite my job and leave the BAU. It was irrational. You would've told me that. But what can you do, when you're in love?
And the next time I saw you, you were dead. Lying on the floor. You had stopped convulsing. Tobias Hankel that pitiful man was kneeling next to you. Trying to bring you back to life. Part of me prayed him to succeed so that I wouldn't have to deal with that loss. And still, part of me hoped you to turn your back to us and go safely to the light. You deserved to get out of that place, where even God couldn't see, but maybe dying wasn't the best way.
You woke up. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be grateful or sad. I was both. But mostly I just wanted to find you and hold you close to my chest until the world crumpled. I wanted to tell you, how proud of you I was, how much you meant to me and how much it hurt me to see you get hurt. I didn't tell anyone, though. It was their hell too.
The night we found you from the cemetery was cold. Gideon was wearing a winter jacket but I had been too much in a hurry to think about that. I just wanted to find you. The cold didn't matter. Not then. Only the gun shot and finding you in relatively good shape after made their way into my mind.
You were too ashamed to look at me. You hugged Hotch, JJ and even Gideon – almost – but you never even glanced at me. If I'm honest, I was hurt but I also have to understand you. You didn't want to appear weak in my eyes. The bad thing was you didn't know you could never seem weak to anyone. Especially after all you had just endured.
I got my hugs later. I had to talk to you for a good thirty minutes before that but I eventually got you to open up. And that night I held you close and you cried against my shoulder – big, soft tears.
Even today, I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night hearing you scream in your sleep. And when you wake up, I collect the pieces and hold you close. Night after night. It makes me wonder if anything really was worth it.
That cold never left me. Every time I remember that night it comes back. Haunting me. You always see the sorrow in my eyes but you don't push me to tell. And even if you did, I wouldn't say anything. It would hurt you too.