Title: Obstructive View.
Rating: PG-13.
Pairing: Morgan/Reid.
Summary: Spencer felt a responsibility to go to her, repent for all the times he hadn't.

Spencer was in a foul mood. He couldn't even pretend to be okay today. He awoke to a phone call from his mother's hospital informing him that his mother wasn't doing so well physically. Spencer's mother was sick, and it was a real possibility that he could lose her.

She was the only thing Spencer had left in this world.

The rain filled morning did nothing to alleviate Spencer's sense of dread, or his fear. Spencer had tried his best to hide what he was feeling. Garcia, Prentiss, and even Rossi had tried to get him to open up, but with no success.

The last place he wanted to be was at work, and when Hotch had suggested some time off, Spencer had gladly took it. Spencer still wasn't sure if he would use those days and fly out to Vegas, or merely sulk alone in his one bedroom apartment.

Spencer felt a responsibility to go to her, repent for all the times he hadn't. God, what was wrong with me?

Spencer decided to eat lunch alone, or at least, he had tried to. Spencer had been in the midst of eating a sublime doughnut, when Derek had entered into the small bakery Spencer often attended. Derek waved at him, making a steady approach.

"You're not here to ask me questions, are you?" Spencer questions, and Derek almost looks offended that he would even ask such a thing.

"Who, me? No. I'm here for one of Mary Sues delicious brownies," he says, turning on his heels and heading off to the glass counter full of various goodies.

"Yes, I'll have one of those...oh, that looks good, let's get two of those. That'll do it, thank you." Spencer stares at him as he takes a seat across from him. Derek sets two cupcakes down in front of him; one vanilla with sprinkles Spencer knew to be Derek's favorite, and one chocolate cupcake topped with strawberry filling...Spencer's favorite.

Derek smiled at him, the bastard. He was trying to bribe Spencer with desert, and it was tempting—really, really tempting.

"Would you like one?" he offers, and he knows Spencer does.

"Yes," Spencer bites out, and he slides the treat over. Spencer snatches it from its place on the sanitized, multicolor tabletop. Spencer sinks his teeth into a rather large chunk, raveling in the sweetness it produced, and the small joy it caused him.

"I'm not telling you anything," Spencer says, taking another bite out of his cupcake. Derek merely smiles at him, and it's because he knows Spencer so well.

"I'm not here to hear anything. I'm just here to enjoy your company," he says. Spencer merely looms at him, and its because Spencer knows him so well, and he knew it was just a matter of time before...

"My mom's really sick. Really sick,"

"And you're scared."

"I'm...I'm really scared, Morgan," Spencer admits, and he closes his eyes, trying to bid the sudden cascade of emotion farewell.

"It's okay to be scared, Reid. She's your mom, and yeah, maybe your childhood wasn't ideal, but you love her...and she loves you. The question is: are you going to Vegas?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

It was a reluctant trip home at best, and an impossible one at worst. Spencer had a feeling his father would be there, especially if he thought it was the end, too.

Spencer thinks, more than anything, it was the possibility of seeing his father that had kept him away for so long. Things had not been resolved by Spencer's last trip home, and he doubted they would come close this trip.

Spencer decided to stay at a hotel. He needed to retain some distance. Upon entering, he tossed his suitcase aside, collapsing onto the hard mattress. Spencer's bed at home was definitely better. Hell, Garcia's couch had been more comfortable than this thing. Spencer's phone buzzes above his head, and he doesn't have to look at the caller ID to know who it is.

"If you're wondering as to whether or not I jumped out of the plane, I didn't. I'm in Vegas, in some mediocre hotel room."

"You offend me, pretty boy. I have much more faith in you than you think, but I'm glad you made it."

"Thanks, Morgan," he says, and it's as in depth as he can manage at the moment. Spencer is simply too tired to tell him how much he appreciates him for all of this, but Spencer had a feeling that Derek already knew. "No problem, Reid. Now, get some sleep, spend some time with your mom, and I'll call you sometime tomorrow."

They ended up talking for almost an hour, about random things. How dry it was in Vegas, and how cold it was getting in Virginia. How worried Garcia was, and how Derek's thinking about buying Spencer a turtle for Christmas, and naming it Miny Reid.

It's not until after they hang up, that Spencer realizes just how much he depends on Derek, how much he was missing him, and it freaks him out...but only a little. Spencer falls into an uneasy sleep, waking five hours later, tired and with a serious migraine. He takes a taxi, staring bleakly out the window.

When he arrives, he is greeted by an array of sympathetic stares. Spencer knocks on his mother's door, and breathes a sigh of relief when he hears her say, "Come in."

It is weak, faint even, but it's there. Spencer enters, and immediately he regrets it. She looks so small in her bed, a barge of blankets surrounding her pale form.
"Um, h-hey mom," Spencer says, shy. It's like his voice flees him, and he's frozen where he stands.

"Spencer! Come here, you look so thin," she greets as she pats the empty space beside her. The doctor's said she was refusing any and all treatment. Spencer does as she says, sitting cautiously to her left. She strokes Spencer's hair softly, approving. Tears threaten to fall as she hugs him, telling him to stop looking at her like that. Spencer hugs her tight.

"How are you, Spencer?"

"Not, um, not so good right now, mom."

"It's not so bad, Spencer."

"Not so bad? Mom, you're the only thing I have left, and you're...you're," Spencer can't bring himself to say the rest.

"Nonsense, Spencer. I would never leave you in this world alone."

"If you mean dad..."

"That's not who I mean, Spencer. In all of your letters, you talk about all of the people you work with and how they affect your life."

"Yes, mom, but they're not my family."

"At least one of them is, and I think him a very handsome man, Spencer."

"Mom..."

"Hush, Spencer. We don't have time," and they didn't. Spencer knew they didn't. He rested his head upon her shoulder as she read out loud 'A Tale of Two Cities' by Charles Dickens. Spencer fell asleep to her soft heart beat, only to awake when he heard it stop. The next three days were the worse Spencer had come by. A succession of burial arrangements, funeral gatherings, and many, many tears.

"She's gone," was the only thing Spencer was able force out over the telephone. Derek said nothing, merely stayed silent on the other side of the phone. It was enough to know that he was with him—somehow, someway.

Spencer had seen his father, and in all honesty, it was bound to happen. They said nothing more than what they had to. There would be time later to try and repair the mess between them, but that time was not now. Before Spencer had left, his father told him how proud he was of him, and to live a happy, content life. Spencer wished him the very same, but didn't know whether or not he meant it.

The only thing Spencer could focus on was landing in Virginia, and heading back to familiar ground.

Spencer was relived when he was able to board off the plane. One of the first faces he saw was Derek's. The other man smiled at him, and Spencer smiled back, if not just a little sad.

"Hey," he says, hugging Spencer tightly. The action surprises him at first, but he melts into the comfort of his arms.

"Hey."

They walk side by side till they have to stop and wait for Spencer's luggage to make its way. Derek grabs the navy blue suitcase, much to Spencer's protests. The wheels are wobbly, and Derek stops at least five times before the tight wheel finally pops off. Spencer begins to laugh, a little embarrassed. A flush spreads across his cheeks as Derek joins in his laughter. Spencer begs him not to carry it out to the car, but Derek doesn't listen. Spencer buckles his seat belt, and lays his head back against the seat.

"I'm tired," he mumbles, sleepily. Derek looks over at him, nodding his head as he thinks about what to say.

"That's understandable. Listen, my house is closer, why don't you just crash at my place?"

There's no room to protest, Spencer understands this. Derek may have posed it as a question, but it wasn't such. Spencer was going to stay at Derek's, and that was final. The finality of his voice sent a shiver down Spencer's spine, it was a little relieving to not have to make a decision for once. He said nothing, merely nodded his head contently before closing his eyes again.

Spencer doesn't wake until he felt the vehicle stop, and the engine cut off.

Once inside, both Spencer and Derek remove their coats. Spencer's unsure of where to his until he watches Derek set it over the arm of his sofa. Spencer mimic's the motion. He stands in the middle of Derek's living room, it isn't the first time he's been here, but he takes an in depth look while he can.

Derek approaches him from behind, startling him slightly when he places an intimate hand on his hip. It's a bold move, Derek is well aware of that, but it was now or never. Spencer tenses, seeming to weigh his options, but all conscious thought fly's out the window when Derek places his chin upon his shoulder.

Spencer turns around in his embrace, and Derek doesn't miss a beat as he kisses him. It's a whirlwind inside of Spencer's head, but it's warm and welcoming. He feels breathless, is breathless as they part, and there's a heavy feeling in his chest as he says:

"I don't want to be alone anymore."

"You don't have to,"

Derek offers, a shimmer of hope in his eyes. Those dark, fascinating eyes. Spencer needs this, needs him. Spencer wants Derek, and he has the opportunity now to have him. He wasn't going to question why, or even how.

"Then I won't be,"

Spencer says, warm breath ghosting over Derek's face. They're so close, arms and legs entangled in each others personal space. This was logical, Spencer commends. This was the next step that they were both suppose to take, together.

"That's a wise decision,"

he says, a smile to his lips as he moves them forward. The kiss they share turns from shy to passionate rather quickly. Their legs carry them towards Derek's bedroom. The heat Spencer's experiencing is almost unbearable, made worse by the amount of clothing he's wearing.

That problem is quickly solved when Derek's hands make quick removing the restricting material. Spencer's grateful, and says as much. Derek's fingers feel good running through his hair, tangling themselves at the curled ends.

Their eyes meet again. A sense of comfort washes over Spencer, his hand running down Derek's naked chest. Spencer leans in to kiss Derek, feeling a little more bold. He can feel the other man smile against his mouth, and it makes all the difference in the world.

Spencer feels a rush of nerves as they crawl on top of beige colored sheets. Derek crawling over him, warm body pressing down on top of him. There is a moment where they don't move, don't speak. Derek kissing along Spencer's jaw.

Leaving a trail of hot kisses down his exposed neck, all the way down to his torso. This wasn't Spencer's first time, but it was definitely the most excited he had ever been. This time, it meant something. It meant everything.

Derek grinned up at him, placing a tender kiss to either hip. Spencer dragged his fingers lazily down his cheek, smiling when Derek kisses the curious digits. Spencer's whole life had been plagued by reluctance.

Spencer had always been skeptical to the better things in life.

Spencer supposed he owed it to his mother to try and be happy, but with Derek; he didn't have to try.